HR 9-10 Prisca Makes Good
by slytherinsal
Summary: 22-9-2523 to 17-6-2524 Lazy Prisca finds that life outside the Weyr is a little flat, stale and unprofitable, and as well as deciding to keep as fit as T'lana bullied her into becoming learns a lot more about what there is to learn. A surprise request from T'lana leads Prisca to Telgar Weyr to discover why there are problems there, and... to do something about it.
1. Chapter 1

_**Many thanks to Trancefan for the beta read, the discussions surrounding the direction of this story, and her asides that make me chuckle on the edits. Thanks to Dinopoodle for Storadel and to Ebony Starstorm for some excellent comments about Bedella, R'mart and Telgar. I still don't own Pern but I sure do love to play in AMC's backyard. **_

**Chapter 1**

Prisca was unaccountably bored.

She scowled to herself; it was a terrible thing to have to admit to herself, that she was actually bored – after having been used to having her days filled so unwillingly at the Weyr. She had been so GLAD to get home, so pleased to be back in an environment that had rules she knew, people she could manipulate, admiring young men who were ready to believe that she had learned new and exciting techniques in the furs of the Dragonriders of High Reaches Weyr.

Prisca had no intention of mentioning that she had not been taken as a lover by anyone in the Weyr, Dragonrider or otherwise. Hints and tantalising smiles kept the young men agog with interest and ready to do anything for her in the hopes of being chosen as one to learn this spurious knowledge.

And they bored her after a couple of weeks playing with their emotions. They were too shallow and superficial to want to have anything to do with any of them.

She was also waking up early in the mornings before anyone except the drudges were about, even though she had needed to be got out of bed in the Weyr; because even lying in, by comparison to the time candidates were accustomed to rise, was still an earlier rising time than her own family and those of sufficient Rank in the Hold to take any notice of. And it was boring just lying in bed, there was only so long anyone could soak in a hot bath, and then have to wait until breakfast time. Prisca was used to eating early; and had taken to invading the Hold's kitchen for the same nourishing if plain porridge that the drudges ate, just to have something in her growling belly, and had even found herself irritably showing a new young drudge how to scrub a floor where the child was rather ineffectually clearing a spill of grease.

Had Prisca realised it, this immediately raised the respect given to her by the drudges no end; what she did realise was that she was being treated differently. Unobservant of drudges Prisca might be, but even so she noticed that she got a smile when she gave orders, and that the drudges bowed and curtseyed to her with willing alacrity, and her portion at meals was taken from the choicer cuts. And this was not from the time of returning from the Weyr, but after, Prisca was not the sort of girl to go seeking for explanations; but she did casually ask her own maid,

"What did I do right that you all treat me differently, Feytha?"

"Oh Lady Prisca, it was because you knew how to show that idiot child Lassa how to scrub the floor!" said Feytha. "Because you knew how and showed her like someone of the Blood, not like an overseer who just curses!"

That was a jolt. Prisca had never been required by her parents to know anything about Hold management; her brother would Hold one day and her mother, a child of one of the Holders raised by Fax, had seen no need for a daughter to dirty her hands. That the DRUDGES should consider this something suitable for someone of the Blood tallied uncomfortably closely to what the Ranking Queenriders had been saying. Prisca just sniffed.

She tried not to think that it made her feel good; who cared, after all, what drudges thought!

Prisca did care about her stomach – within doing enough genteel exercise not to get too overweight, lazy she might be but she had enough vanity to be impressed that the work she had been made to do as a candidate had significantly improved her figure – and had cared enough in the Weyr to ask about a confection that had been served. This led to her invading the Hold kitchen in indignation after a feast for a visiting Holder discussing possible marriage arrangements for his daughter with Prisca's brother Caspri. Prisca had noticed that there had been a lot of partially eaten bread left by her family and the visitors and had casually asked Feytha if treacle tart would be served the next day. When Feytha looked blank, Prisca went to ask the cook what had been done with the broken and left over bread.

On answering that it had been thrown away, the man was astonished to listen to a tirade from Lady Prisca about the profligate waste of good food and a demand to know if he had never heard of using the crumbs of left over bread to make treacle tart.

On discovering that this was not a recipe known to the man, Prisca promptly wrote to Keerana, headwoman of High Reaches Weyr, and asked for a recipe; to which Keerana, delighted that one of the laziest candidates she had ever known was interested in anything so practical, replied, adding other recipes to use bread crumbs and instructions for their storage.

Prisca's stock went up again amongst the Hold workers and drudges, even if she was no more popular with the cook than before; but now at least he showed her grudging respect for being aware of waste, and meals on the whole became more interesting as he strove to use all leftovers for fear of being pursued around his own kitchen again by an angry girl with a ladle, the first weapon of chastisement that had come to Prisca's hand. However he made it clear that this was in return for Prisca not taking liberties in his domain.

And she was still bored.

There was nothing to do except flirt, and dance, play and sing, and embroider. Prisca had never been very good at embroidery; she had thrown too many tantrums about it being too hard to do and her mother had foolishly said that her little girl did not have to learn anything that was too hard.

The women of the weyr had openly despised Prisca as a fairly useless object, and deep down, Prisca was not only starting to acknowledge that they might be right but starting to resent that, and to resent the boredom.

oOoOo

When Threadfall came, Prisca looked in some scorn on the sobbing of her female cousins as everything was shuttered in preparation; and she drifted to the entrance where the sweep crew were assembling. The joke in High Reaches Weyr had been that Prisca was too lazy to fear Thread, but actually, though Prisca had the usual reaction of horrified revulsion to the organism, she literally saw no reason for getting hysterical about it. It was horrible. Dragonriders dealt with it. Why worry?

Caspri and his friends were wrestling with a flamethrower. Some turns younger than his sister, Caspri had no illusions about her inherent laziness and had his own ideas about why she had returned from the Weyr. He got quite angry with the way all the young men seemed to run around Prisca and tried to warn them, usually to no avail. He saw an opportunity to show her up in front of all her admirers.

"Ah, Prisca!" he said "You've spent so much time in the Weyr, howsabout you mend this wretched flamethrower?"

Prisca frowned.

"Why wasn't it serviced immediately after last Fall?" she said, automatically. "That was poor practice on someone's part, find out who, Caspri, and report whoever was responsible."

Caspri flushed.

"It was me," he said. "I – yes, I'll report myself to Casser. I should have checked it. I don't suppose you can fix it though," he added.

Prisca hated stripping flamethrowers; it was sometimes used as a punishment duty, well-overlooked to make sure no skimping occurred. But she did know how to do it. She pulled a face, pushed back her sleeves, and proceeded to strip it, and remove the obstructing burned grease that was causing the problem.

"Should work now," she said laconically.

Caspri stared.

"I apologise," he said, "I didn't think you could do it."

"I learned quite a lot in the Weyr," said Prisca, "not all of it fun things," and she cast a provocative glance at Caspri's friends to imply that she had learned plenty that was fun too. It was habit to do so and besides she did not want anyone thinking that she had been spurned!

"Are you going to walk sweep then?" asked Caspri, uncertainly.

Prisca hesitated and considered that the alternative was spending Fall with wailing and irritating cousins and shrugged.

"May as well," she said, going to collect her wherhide jacket.

She had walked sweep without enthusiasm as a candidate; it wasn't especially arduous work, just a job that required some mental vigilance. To avoid being Threadscored, Prisca had been happy enough to be vigilant.

Besides, although she had thought that people like Mirielle – M'ielle now – had feigned a lack of fear of dragons, she too had become used to the big creatures and indeed rather missed seeing them about all the time. Watching them go over would be pleasant.

Prisca absently watched the big clock in the hall for ten minutes to pass after the Fall siren and hefted an agenothree sprayer as her brother claimed the flamethrower for overwatch.

"You'll get tired holding that until we go out," said Caspri.

Prisca stared.

"Fall's past, it's trailing edge; time to go for best efficiency," she said, quoting what she had heard.

Her father had come over.

"Is that what they say in the Weyr?" he asked.

"Yes, Casser; especially with timber," said Prisca, who had a retentive memory at least.

Casser raised his voice.

"All right people, we'll be changing our policy; the Weyr prefers those of us with timber to be out on trailing edge. Follow me!"

There were a few nervous mutters. Caspri hefted his flamethrower staunchly; he was not going to be outdone by his sister.

"What did you think of your bride?" Prisca asked, more for something to say than anything else as she joined in Caspri's group.

"A bit wet but it may be that she's just nervous of meeting a possible husband for the first time," said Caspri. "She said I was preferable to the old man who leered at her. Poor kid, I reckon we could get along."

"She isn't short on wit," said Prisca. "When she was with us girls she was describing him pretty well and it's no compliment to you, she'd as soon marry a caprine than her other suitor."

Caspri laughed and flamed a solitary Thread from mid air.

"Gotcha… never had to do that when we went out late. Well, I think I'm an improvement on a caprine."

"It's gusty – that'll be why one got through," said Prisca. "She's been taught to act like a dimglow so as not to frighten a husband. You'll like her more than you think I reckon and she'll be glad you let her be clever."

"Thanks, sis," said Caspri. "I appreciate that. Reckon the Weyr improved you a lot."

"I don't know," said Prisca. "Caspri, I feel all confused; I wanted to come home to what I understood, but now I'm here, I'm BORED!"

"You are? I didn't think you could get vertical enough to be bored," said Caspri. "Well, guess you've learned a lot of how life's more than drooping around at people and getting laid as your most strenuous activity. Do you want to go back then?"

"I – I don't know," said Prisca. "It's dreadfully hard work. And such dirty work too, not just flamethrowers but dealing with firestone. Caring for a dragon is not easy I guess. But I do miss dragons – look, there they are, it's changeover before flying the second part of Fall!"

"What's Changeover?" asked Caspri.

Prisca explained how T'bor split his Wings and had half flying at a time, swapping out when tired with a fresh pair of Wings under the protection of the Protective Wing. She had heard enough about it to give a clear explanation; and was able to point out the different Queen dragons in the lower, female wing as they flew East.

"Tell you what, sis," said Caspri "Why don't you ask Casser if you can learn more about how the Hold is run? Reckon then you might be able to go back to the Weyr to work with the Headwoman even if it's too much for you to care for a dragon."

"I – well maybe I will," said Prisca. Perversely she wanted to say that it was NOT too much for her to be able to care for a dragon; but she knew that as things stood, actually it would be.

Comparisons of her cousins, reflections of herself, and the women of High Reaches Weyr were not favourable to her own kin. And somewhere inside, Prisca was recalling Pilgra's kindly words about growing up – and was actually starting to manage to do so. Secretly she determined that she would get fitter and keep the trimmer figure the work in the Weyr had given her so if she did go back to the Weyr as an aide to Keerana she might have a chance of Impressing in the tiers. Prisca had come a long way to even contemplate being an aide to Keerana whom once she had thought of as a lower cavern drudge-overseer until put right forcibly about THAT more than once.

oOoOo

Prisca reviewed her cousins to see if any might be an ally in the matter of keeping fit. Cassida was the eldest of five sisters, who would have been married by now had not the man she had been betrothed to died the day before the wedding of an unfortunate incident of lurweed mixed in with his salad. Prisca personally suspected Cassida of having made away with him and did not blame her. It was whispered that the man's own hold devoured the wedding feast that was prepared, by way of celebration of his death. Cassida was fairly calculating and quite as lazy as Prisca had ever been. Varilla, the next one, was nervous and also giggled nervously as did the third, Ridilla. Ridilla was affected and had a screechy laugh. Casvara told tales and was not noted for her truthfulness, and the youngest, Varassa, Prisca rejected out of hand as being too young. In the end she decided that the only person she could take into her confidence was her maid Feytha.

Feytha was a sufficiently romantic girl to love the idea of secret exercising to hope to Impress one day by stealth; she was actually quite fond of her mistress. It was hard work tidying up behind Prisca at times, but Prisca had never been unduly demanding. Feytha's duties were more likely to involve entertaining Prisca by playing the harp – Prisca had asked the Hall Harper to teach her specifically – or telling stories than drudging. Prisca liked her pretty clothes but was not fussy about what was set out for her to wear and shrugged if a costume took a while to launder or mend. And she liked her maid to be restful. Feytha was a plump girl with a ready laugh that was infectious and a never-ending fund of folk tales she loved to tell. She blessed her fortune in being probably one of the most indulged personal drudges in the High Reaches outside a Weyr. Prisca's early morning rising habits had worried her at first – it meant that she had to be up earlier herself with klah – but with the explanation from Prisca it became an adventure.

Prisca had no particular desire to get fit by lifting and carrying blackrock as a substitute for the firestone that the candidates bagged and shifted; either load was dirty and unpleasant. She was not sure what to do instead, and said so to Feytha.

"Please, if I might make a suggestion, my Lady, I think I might have some idea," said Feytha.

"I can always listen even if I don't like it I suppose," said Prisca, a little ungraciously.

"Well I think you'll like it," said Feytha. "One of the loggers married a woman who was with a band of acrobats – the more reputable ones, not like some of the feckless Holdless that can tumble a bit – because she'd fallen and hurt herself and wanted to settle. But she still practises moves and she's as strong as strong. I should think she might teach you things."

"And she isn't – well, beefy? I don't want to be beefy," said Prisca.

Feytha giggled.

"She looks like she'd blow away in a strong breeze," she said.

oOoOo

Prisca duly agreed to meet Felderata, the logger's wife; who looked her up and down.

"Yes you have some underlying muscle to build on," she said in a silvery voice. "You'll want to wear trews though. Feytha says you'll pay for some training?"

"Yes," said Prisca. It would be worth it.

"Very well. As you're in skirts, I'll give you a demonstration of what I can do, what I'll teach YOU and which muscles it develops."

The display of tumbling, even from a woman with a limp, was spectacular; and Prisca was spellbound.

"How much of that can I learn?" she demanded. Felderata gave a grim smile.

"Probably a mere fraction," she said. "I've been tumbling since I could walk; and I put in the two or three hours practice daily to keep myself supple and fit. However if you're ready to put in the time and the effort you could learn more than just enough to keep you fit, which is what Feytha said you wanted. It will hurt" she warned.

Prisca pulled a face.

She really wanted to be fit and strong though, and this would give an amazing skill that was also a means of getting stronger in a cleaner way than the Weyr saw fit to do it. Perhaps it would be worth the pain for the gain.

It was soon apparent to Felderata that Prisca would never be a great tumbler, but she had the potential to be competent enough. Prisca was a good dancer, which had given her well shaped legs and that could be built upon. Felderata saw no reason why the girl should not be able to combine dance with acrobatic moves rather than pure tumbling and set out to teach along those lines. The money was good and it was worth paying for a neighbour to take over the cooking for both logcots while the Lady Prisca was learning. The lessons took place on the slightly raised board floor used for sugaring off dances and other celebrations in the logging community that was beHolden to Talltrees Hold and Holder Casser. The cots of the loggers were almost a community of their own but Casser arranged for Harper teaching for the children of the loggers who had a visiting Harper over the summer when many were helping their parents, and who fostered within the main Hold to attend lessons with the Hold Harper when little could be done in the forest for the inclement weather. Winter was fast approaching and Prisca wanted to be able to have something to work on when visiting Felderata became impractical. She would miss her visits to the logger's wife; though it was something she would once have castigated as hard work, it was also fun, and rewarding to feel her body become more supple. Prisca's new athleticism gave her advantages too in the taking of lovers, who appreciated her lithe movements, and if the logger who entertained her from time to time had a fair idea what made the Lady so athletic, the handsome smithcrafter in the Hold declared in awe that the Weyr certainly showed women a thing or two! The old Prisca too might have despised such as lovers, preferring only those at least nominally ranking; but in truth she now found those who worked on their own muscles more interesting lovers than many of the less capable young men. It did not stop her flirting however!

Prisca had also taken her brother's advice in asking her father if she might learn something of the running of a Hold; and found him more than willing to teach her. It had been her mother's idea that ladies were not required to do anything, and Casser preferred a quiet life without upsetting his lady. He was gratified that his daughter had learned enough to want to work towards being a Holder's wife some day and showed her willingly and with patience what was required. When it transpired in conversation that Prisca had already taken steps to minimise waste in the kitchens, Casser clapped her on the shoulder as he was wont to do to Caspri, and said,

"My daughter, I am PROUD of you."

If the respect of the drudges was enough to make Prisca feel good, the respect and pride in her of her father was something that made her glow.

It may be said that Pilgra would hardly have recognised Prisca; for the exercise initially undertaken to keep her figure was also giving her more energy which, to avoid boredom, Prisca was turning to good account, both learning from her father, and taking long walks and rides to escape her cousins. She took a groom as her attendant rather than the chubby Feytha, much to that girl's relief, and if there were wild rumours concerning the relationship she might enjoy with the young groom, Prisca did not much care, and the youth capitalised upon with nods and winks quite as spurious as any Prisca had utilised when suggesting wild lovers in the Weyr.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The Weyr noticed that Talltrees had moved out earlier than usual, and Weyrwoman T'lana flew in to thank Casser for his scrupulous protection of his timber.

"Well, to be honest, Weyrwoman, it would not have occurred to me, had not my daughter Prisca pointed out how the Weyr like those with stands of timber to be extra vigilant," said Casser. "She might not have Impressed, but her time at the Weyr has done her good, she's taking more responsibility and she's a lot more energetic."

T'lana had to school her face at that comment; anyone less energetic than Prisca she had yet to meet, and if her own experience of the girl was more energetic, the little red-haired Queenrider was wondering how Prisca had managed to breathe without someone manning bellows before!

"Might I express my good wishes to your daughter?" she asked.

"Why, if you would like, Weyrwoman; my Hold is at your disposal," said Casser. "I believe she's in my office studying the tree maps – I keep track of what timber I have where."

"Sensible," approved T'lana. "We might have to see about talking to Bendarek about establishing a small Woodcraft Hall here, as you're ready to be scrupulous in the care of the timber; apprentices help with sweep too."

"That would be most welcome, Weyrwoman," said Casser, well aware that T'lana was on good terms with the most famous Woodcrafter in the High Reaches whose opinion was respected by Masterwoodcrafter Bendarek himself. H'llon was known to be progressive, and Casser was more than happy to endorse progressive. Unlike his wife Priselly he had not been at all dismayed when Prisca had written that she was prepared to stand for a Green egg. Priselly was interested in status – possibly because her own Blood status was somewhat dubious.

oOoOo

T'lana blinked at the slim figure, poring industriously over papers.

"Prisca? You're doing something willingly!" she said, with more truth than tact.

Prisca looked up and flushed.

"I discovered that doing nothing was boring, Weyrwoman," she said, "and I appear to have a talent for organisation that I can use to learn how to run a Hold properly – as my current options appear to be confined to marriage."

T'lana elevated a finely etched eyebrow.

"Why, have you anyone in mind?" she asked. Prisca shook her head.

"No, but it's more or less expected," she said, "as I failed at Impression."

"You let yourself down," said T'lana, "but Pilgra says you were starting to grow up. I see you're continuing with that – and the reason I'm here is to thank you for talking your father into going out to walk sweep earlier."

Prisca gave a self conscious laugh.

"I was wondering why you were here… I didn't really have to talk him into anything, I just pointed out what the Weyr likes, because I assumed we'd go out on Trailing edge same as I've been used to at the Weyr… it was rather nice looking like an expert in comparison to others," she added wistfully. "And I wanted to see the dragons…"

T'lana pursed her lips in a silent whistle.

"I should think if you wanted to return, Pilgra would be happy to accommodate you, if you were ready to put yourself into being a potential weyrwoman," she said.

Prisca flushed.

"I – I was wondering if – if I asked Casser to take me to hatchings, whether I would have a chance of Impressing in the tiers," she said, "I – if I return to High Reaches I'd have to deal with people knowing I had not done well. And – and although I am fitter, because I've been learning acrobatics, I don't know that I'm fit enough for all that again…"

"Acrobatics, eh?" said T'lana.

"I liked the figure I got from doing the work at the weyr, and I wanted to keep it," said Prisca. T'lana laughed. She might have guessed there was a strong degree of enlightened self interest involved!

"Nothing wrong with liking to keep a good figure," she said. "Well, the High Reaches do have a regimen of exercise unequalled anwhere except Igen where, interestingly, they have just instituted acrobatics as a part of their regime along with their intent to put girls to Greens with the next clutch. I think T'bor and G'narish have the most energetic outlook though that even Benden doesn't emulate. Would you prefer to stand somewhere else and do it formally for a Queen rather than the higher chance of getting a Green in those places that are more, er, energetic?"

"I shouldn't mind," said Prisca, honestly. "I miss dragons. I did wonder if I might train to be Headwoman's assistant somewhere... Keerana wrote to me kindly enough, and I shouldn't have to associate as much with people who knew me…"

T'lana nodded, thoughtfully.

"How are you on the Charter?" she asked.

Prisca flushed.

"Not much further than what I learned at High Reaches," she confessed.

T'lana frowned thoughtfully.

"Prisca, you're no idiot," she said, "and you've never been unpleasant as such, just terminally horizontal. How would you feel about trying something that would help, in the long term, all dragonkind?"

"Depends how hard it was," said Prisca.

T'lana laughed.

"I guess I'd be suspicious if you'd changed enough NOT to make that comment," she said. "It wouldn't be arduous, but it might be difficult in that there would be… difficult personalities to contend with."

"I tend to ignore difficult personalities," said Prisca.

"Hmm. Probably better than letting yourself get upset by them at that," said T'lana. "Look, I'll be honest with you. And I wouldn't have chosen you necessarily, but it seems kind of meant to be that you might want to go to another Weyr. Because there's somewhere that brings Dragonmen somewhat into disrepute."

"Telgar," said Prisca.

"Well you picked that up," said T'lana.

"A little hard not to; I have ears and I've heard about T'mon and Denth, and about that boy who's adopted brother of Sagarra's friend Amrys," said Prisca, "and I've heard their Riders have said some pretty nasty things about High Reaches. And I might not want to put myself out for cranks and cripples, but if I was one of them, I'd be glad if someone put themselves out for me. And I'm quite capable of seeing that the cranks and cripples of High Reaches perform with the energetic efficiency everyone else does."

"Backhanded compliment but accurate enough," said T'lana. "I wouldn't normally ask anyone to go into Telgar; the atmosphere isn't nice. Even someone I loved dearly as I'm more inclined to put upon my nearest and dearest."

Prisca laughed.

"Well, it's nice to know that you aren't asking me because you dislike you and don't care if I'm miserable," she said.

"I always care about people being miserable," said T'lana, "even that awful girl Lasolly who tried to kill Z'ira in the hopes of diverting Tiabeth's Impression. She must be very miserable in herself to feel that need – even without her punishment drudging. Whenever I'm at High Reaches Hold I make a point of asking if she has anything to say, in the hopes that she will be sorry and want to move on. She hasn't yet," she added sorrowfully.

Prisca stared.

"You do care – and so does Pilgra! She thought I was growing up, and I was ashamed because she ascribed better motives to me than I had. I DO want to be worthy of dragons, but – but I don't like too much physical hardship."

"Telgar might even suit you, then," said T'lana, dryly. "They subscribe to the old fashioned view of giving Queenriders a bit of pampering there, though you'll still need to keep up with scrubbing and oiling a Queen-sized partner if you do Impress. And with the muscles I'm seeing and the more alert look than I've ever seen on you, you probably have a better chance than most, at that."

"Do they have a Golden egg at Telgar?" asked Prisca. "If I didn't Impress that, I might Impress a Green on the grounds, which would addle R'mart's yolk, wouldn't it?" she giggled.

T'lana chuckled.

"It surely would, and what's more, you naughty girl, he couldn't throw you out without disrespecting Benden who accepted Mirrim. And you should at least SHOW respect for a Weyrleader," she added belatedly. "They don't have a Gold egg right now, but I have a suggestion. Up near Crom there's a small Hold which during the Long Interval built a small Harper Hall, because the then Holder married a female journeyman from the Harper Hall and wanted her to feel at home."

"I thought Master Menolly was the first female apprentice?" said Prisca.

"No, she was the first since the practice fell into disuse," T'lana explained, "in fact Retired Masterharper Robinton's mother was a Mastersinger. This little Hold, Brightwater, hid its Harper Hall during the Fax years, turning over the instrument making workshop to Smithcrafting and seeming to be a Smithcraft Hall; the few remaining students learned to drum by hammering the measures on anvils and learned some smithing skills with the connivance of the Hold Smith. It has been rebuilding since Master Sebell learned about it – you can't blame Master Robinton, he had a lot on his mind – and they are willing to take a handful of paying students. I propose that you go there, less to learn music than to learn about the Charter, politics, and how to use your voice to speak. If you are going to be a Weyrwoman who would like to see change, knowing how to project yourself would be useful. More to the point, you'd be likely to be Searched from there and no connivance from High Reaches visible."

Prisca thought quickly.

"I play the harp a little," she said, "I picked it up when my maid, Feytha, was learning, to entertain me. If I'm going to be a Weyrwoman, she's going to need a place to go, do you think they might accept her as an apprentice there? She's very good."

T'lana gave the girl her warmest smile.

"Thinking of another person first is quite the most endearing thing you've ever done," she said. "And actually I've never seen any evidence that you don't care for your dependents even when being demanding. I have the contacts to arrange that if she would like that. And meantime if you speak to your father, the new intake is at Turnover, both of apprentices and paying students. I calculate that Telgar's second Queen, Talmanth, should be due to rise around then. They are short on Queens because not only is the senior Queen Solth an ageing Oldtimer Queen, she's not keen on sharing her glory. We have a High Reaches joke that Branth only impregnated her with Talmanth because she wasn't taking enough notice to stop him."

Prisca gave a rueful chuckle.

"They aren't very nice people, are they?" she said.

"No," agreed T'lana, "but you can always ask to transfer if you hate it too much if you do Impress. It would be for a limited time."

"You'd be disappointed in me if I did," said Prisca, shrewdly.

"A little, yes," admitted T'lana, "but then as I'd have probably wanted to slap most of them silly by then, I could hardly complain, could I?"

Prisca laughed.

"You're very honest about your own faults," she said, "it's what I admire in you and Pilgra both; and I try to be alive to mine. My worst is being lazy, but I've learned that I can get over it if I want something badly enough. And – and I guess I didn't know how much I wanted dragons until I wasn't around them any more. I'm actually fitter than I was with you and R'gar shouting at me because I wanted to have a nice figure and not to be bored."

"Well if acrobatics is a way of making people fit and stopping them being bored, maybe we should institute the skill for the Weyr too," said T'lana. "I'll have to steal an acrobat from Igen, I suppose," her eyes twinkled. "Well, if you're game for it…"

"I am," said Prisca. "It certainly won't be boring!"

"Anything but," agreed T'lana, dryly.

oOoOo

Feytha's mouth was an 'O' when Prisca asked her if she would like to be a real apprentice at a Harper Hall.

"But My Lady, aren't I too old? And – and who will look after you?"

Prisca shrugged.

"I suppose I'll have to look after myself; I had to, in the Weyr as you weren't allowed to come. I don't want you ending up drudging to my idiot cousins."

Feytha giggled.

"I always managed to avoid doing much by telling each I was on an errand for one of the others, and as they don't actually talk to each other, they never found out," she said.

"Well, there you are; born to be a Harper with that level of duplicity," said Prisca. "I don't think Casser ever expected me to Impress or he'd probably have reassigned you. And whilst you might get on well with Wasserface when she marries Caspri, you might not."

Feytha giggled.

"She's called Brissandorie" she said.

"Poor kid," said Prisca with sympathy. "I think her parents jammed in portions of every relative they might reasonably be expected to inherit from."

Feytha giggled again.

"That's Faranth's truth!" she declared. "I should not mind serving Lady Brissandorie, she is a pleasant child, but I would rather learn more if it is truly possible!"

Feytha had been the source of Prisca's intelligence about her brother's betrothed wife; when the young bride to be had made a formal visit, Feytha had attached herself to the drudges waiting on her with the intent of finding out as much as possible. Prisca had every expectation that she would make an excellent Harper; and came quickly to the decision to tell Feytha everything. She swiftly did so.

"I planned to make it a condition that you were to be taken care of, but as it happens, Weyrwoman T'lana made no difficulties over it," she said. "She was pleased I cared for your wellbeing. There are precedents about older apprentices who have been prevented from qualifying through illness and other things – and I back T'lana to go right down to Fort and bully Masterharper Sebell into going along with her plans, you know. She's very forceful."

"My Lady, when you are at Telgar, you should remember that it is said that they are more formal than at High Reaches," said Feytha. "Don't ever forget the honourific of colour and rank."

Prisca stared; then nodded.

"You're right," she said. "I don't think anyone is as informal as the High Reaches. I suppose because they trust each other so well to do their jobs, they don't need formal. I resented it a bit at first, but it's like poor mother, who insists on every honorific because she doesn't feel secure. That's really NOT a good starting point for Dragonriders, because if they need to puff off their own consequence, and therefore demonstrate their lack of confidence, how can they win the confidence of those they protect?"

"I suspect most of the Holderfolk resent the arrogance too much to analyse it, My Lady," said Feytha, dryly.

"I think we can dispense with that," said Prisca. "It's only mother who cares what you call me; and shortly you'll be Apprentice Feytha and I'll be Paying-student Prisca. We may as well use High Reaches informality between ourselves."

oOoOo

Casser thought it a good idea that his daughter should learn more about the Charter, and history, and how to use her voice to project; talking to loggers required almost as much yelling as at sea after all, and Prisca might well marry a Holder of another treehold as she had taken an interest in the timber. And Casser also believed in a well rounded education, and now that Prisca was taking an interest in the running of the Hold, he wanted to help her out as much as possible. He choked a little on the idea of going away as far as Crom rather than to Fort, but Prisca told him that T'lana had mentioned this small crafthall that would be more intimate to make learning easier, as well as the Harpers there needing to build up, and wanting paying students.

"T'lana likes to interfere and help people," said Prisca.

This tallied well enough with what Casser knew, and unsuspecting, he promised to make arrangements.

It was not that Prisca intended to lie to her father exactly; just that she was not sure he was ready to accept his daughter hoping to be taken on Search so soon after leaving a Weyr with the express intent of interfering in Weyr politics.

He was too straightforward and honest a man to like that idea at all!

It was duly arranged, and Prisca settled down to brush up her instrument playing with Feytha as well as keeping up her exercises as the snow set in that kept her from visiting Felderata.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Brightwater Hold was named for the tarn and waterfall from it just above the Hold and its associated Harper Hall. In the cold winter air, it was bright indeed, as Prisca and Feytha flew in, courtesy of Y'lara, who had made a few pithy comments but wished Prisca luck anyway and sounded as though she meant it. The tarn and waterfall were both frozen, and gleamed in the thin winter sunshine, the icicles of the waterfall a sculpture of fantastic form that had Prisca gasping in delight as Y'lara took a route that would give a good view.

"Thought you might like it, the both of you," said Y'lara, her seabred shout carrying against the wind without needing much extra volume.

"Thank you, weyrwoman Y'lara," said Prisca.

"You're formal of a sudden, ain't you, kid?" said Y'lara.

"Good habit to get into," said Prisca, laconically. "Feytha suggested it."

"Hmm, got brains as well as music? Should do well," said Y'lara. "Credit to you for crediting her, too, Prisca. Maybe you ain't so bad. Don't forget, Bedella likes music, so calm the silly old fool with pretty playing. And I never said that about a Weyrwoman," she added hastily.

"Oh, seabred, you," said Prisca.

Y'lara laughed; and Tanath backwinged to bring them in to land.

There was an apprentice waiting to show Feytha to her quarters; and a smart drudge to carry Prisca's things to hers. The two girls exchanged a warm smile as each embarked on her own adventure. Prisca heard the apprentice – a girl who gave her name as Camys – telling Feytha that she was the daughter of the Hold but it was customary for all the Holder's children to serve an apprenticeship and it was nice to have another girl, even quite a big one. Prisca lost the gist at that point as the drudge was leading her in another direction, but she wondered if it were natural talent or singing training that enabled the gangling teenage girl to manage so much without pausing for breath whilst hopping along in the sort of ungainly gait peculiar to adolescents. The apprentices were heading for a stone building built out from the cliff face, with big, heavily shuttered windows, whilst Prisca was led to the Hold inside the cliff itself.

oOoOo

The dormitory was arranged with four beds and a cheery fire, and one girl appeared to have arrived already as her belongings had been stowed and her nightgown left out on the bed. The drudge helped Prisca to put her own things away, and then led her through the living quarters of the family. Doubtless the Holder and his wife would have private apartments too, but this, the drudge told her, was a common area, and would be where most lessons would take place.

Prisca was not a little put out that neither the dormitory nor the living quarters had windows to the outside; she had grown used, in the Weyr, to having access to the outside at all times, and in Talltrees there were windows in the family rooms.

The room she was led to was occupied by another girl about her own age, who might be assumed to be the occupier of the other bed; and an older woman who sported the knots of main line, minor hold as well as Journeyman Harper.

Prisca held out her hand politely.

"My lady," she said.

"How do you do, my dear? I'm Valys, and this is Adine, who is one of the four of you girls who will be studying here under my younger son, Valtar," said the older woman.

"I'm Prisca; and I'm looking forward to it," said Prisca.

"Ah, yes, your father wrote and said that you wanted to learn more about History, and about the Charter," said Valys. "Is that correct?"

Prisca nodded.

"I find myself woefully ignorant; I did not give as much attention to my studies as I should have done when I was a child," she said, "And I should catch up. I play the harp a little, but I'm not very musical, only musical enough to appreciate it in others. I sing with moderate skill."

Valys' eyebrows ascended.

"You are very honest about yourself," she said.

Prisca pulled a rueful face.

"I find that growing up brings painful recognition that Pern revolves happily without me being at its centre," she said, "and the realisation that I have squandered chances. So my father is indulgent enough to help me make up for that."

"I bet you were just kicking yourself!" said the girl, Adine. She was a pleasantly plump girl whose hair was neither red nor brown nor even a glossy chestnut, and her eyes were too pale a blue for beauty; but she looked cheerful. A green firelizard mouthed gently on her earlobe.

"Oh yes, once I realised I had been a fool," said Prisca, taking in that the girl wore knots that declared her to be of the family of Lord Larad, albeit minor line, and therefore of the Blood. "However, I have found the determination to attempt to rectify this. I've been learning about running the Hold from my father, and about timber, but a few months of formal lessons will help my understanding of how the wider picture is served by the Charter, I think."

Adine laughed.

"I'm here for the music," she said, "if I can learn enough, Uncle Larad has said he will permit me to be an apprentice; and told me I'd have to work hard to pass for Journeyman in the time left before I'm twenty, and if I don't learn enough, well it will be a wonderful experience and I will take away knowledge that will bring me pleasure."

"I hope you manage to learn enough to apprentice," said Prisca. "It's good to follow ambitions. Why did you not go to the Harper Hall at the regular age?"

"My idiot stepmother was opposed to girl apprentices, I'm afraid," said Adine. "I appealed to Uncle Larad when I had the opportunity to speak to him in public where she couldn't whisk me off somewhere so easily, and he told me it would be hard work. Studying as a paying student here is the compromise. Shavalle thinks I'm going to fail, but I don't intend to give her that satisfaction."

"I heard from someone," said Prisca, who managed to pick up all the gossip in the Weyr, "that a girl in the Harper Hall was set up to fail by her family with the connivance of the Hold Harper because she was left handed, and wasn't taught gitar left handed, or anything else for that matter. And she was taught only the short cuts, not the proper methods and she had to be sorted out by the teacher of the paying students before he accidentally Impressed. So you need to be certain, if Journeyman Valtar points out bad practices, that you may have been taught only the shortcuts," and she glanced at Valys for confirmation.

The Holder's wife was nodding.

"Yes, indeed; there are bad habits that can accrue. For a Harper to betray his calling to fail to help a willing student is bad, but I can't say I'm surprised. Things got bad in the Fax years, and bad habits take longer to die out than good ones. I'll run through your fingering with you, Adine, if you would like, it's better for a woman to shift you around if you have bad habits."

"Thank you," said Adine. "I want to do well; so many of my cousins have proved rather… well, difficult, that I want too to improve the name of my family. Lesara of Fairpastures, who's a cousin in some degree, was thrown out of the Harper Hall for attacking a Journeyman, and I somehow doubt my cousin Fenoria will endear herself to the Weavers at the new Weavercraft Hall at Rivenhill where she's going as a paying student later in the turn. I want to show that I can succeed and do well despite being of the Blood, not sit back on my birth and look smug."

It occurred to Prisca that a number of the Ranking Riders of High Reaches Weyr would probably have managed to put that in a much coarser fashion but she held her peace over similes involving sitting on things. The things L'rilly and particularly T'lana sometimes came out with had shocked her, but they had always been funny. She hid a sigh that the Queenriders at Telgar were likely to be somewhat less witty than those she was used to.

She also hid a gasp as it suddenly also occurred to her that T'lana was setting her up to be Senior Weyrwoman in the not too distant future, as Bedella was aging and the other Queenrider was not young either, being one of the other Oldtimers who had come forward. T'lana knew this of course – she was placing the most tremendous trust in Prisca! The girl felt quite giddy, and fought to control herself.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked Valys.

"I – just a little breathless," said Prisca.

"That will be having come dragonback," said Valys, comfortingly, "so frightening to have to do, and to be so high!"

Prisca stared.

"I like flying on dragonback," she said, "It doesn't frighten me. It's the lack of windows here or in our dormitory. I feel a little stifled."

Valys stared in consternation.

"I usually get girls begging me to assure them that there will be no windows!" she said. "dear me, what an unusual girl you are – if you come through this door, there's a gallery with windows, I ask you not to go any further as it leads to our private quarters, my husband likes to have windows. I can't see why, myself."

_This is going to be a bundle of laughs_, thought Prisca. Well, it had to be endured, and at least Adine seemed a nice girl. She got her breath at the ornately carved windows before returning to the chamber where they were to both have their lessons and relax feeling much better. The windows looked towards Telgar Weyr, though it was too far away to see, and Prisca stared towards the mountains with mixed feelings – pride that T'lana trusted her so much, horror that so much responsibility was to be laid on her, and dismay that she could not let the red haired Weyrwoman down by coasting once she Impressed – if indeed she did Impress. She laughed ruefully. T'lana had actually set her up to work harder than she had ever worked in her life, and to do so would even be an honour that could not be refused. Prisca resolved to give T'lana a piece of her mind if she ever had the chance – as well as thanking her for residing so much trust in her! Well, there was little choice; she had committed herself now, and could only wait to be Searched if or when there was a Golden egg.

And T'lana left very little to chance – and played hunches which were almost uncannily good second guesses of the future. There would be a Golden egg.

The next person to be led in was a tall, dark girl who looked down her nose, and was plainly surprised to find that Prisca was of a similar Rank to herself, and Adine outranked her.

"My name's Siresha," she said, "and at least we are all Ranking here, where I have been for the last few months was dreadful, not only were some of the girls I had to share a dormitory with only the children of Crafters, we had to come into contact with the apprentices as well! Horrid brats!" she shuddered.

"The only apprentice you are likely to come into contact with here is my daughter," said Valys, tartly, "as we of Brightwater value Craft, and I would advise you not to voice your prejudices too loudly, my girl, since Holder's lady I may be now, but I was born a Harper Journeyman's daughter, and proud of my father's craft too. And if you are discourteous to the last girl to arrive, young lady, I will have you sent home. I've heard rumours that you are free with your hands, and don't expect to get away with that."

"And if you think you can hit drudges who can't hit back, well some of us can hit for them," said Prisca, surprising herself.

Siresha gazed on her with horror, her eyes going from Prisca to Valys and back, wondering which she despised the most.

"Oh dear, one of those girls," said Adine, bored. "Uncle Larad just hates them… reckons they're a disgrace to their Rank. Don't cause trouble, Siresha."

"I don't want ANY hitting," said Valys, "If Siresha strikes a drudge or apprentice to your knowledge, Prisca, you will report it to me."

"But how will she learn to grow without peer pressure?" said Prisca.

"Because she will learn to obey the rules or be punished according to the rules," said Valys.

Suddenly a lot of things fell into place.

That was what made the Weyr different. In the Weyr one was expected to take personal responsibility for one's own behaviour, and that was guided by the peer pressure of other candidates or, for the Weyrbred, others of one's own age. Holds had many rules and punishments laid down because the Holder and his representatives took responsibility for the behaviour of those under them. What crafts did, Prisca had very little idea, but she shrewdly envisaged that if they were sensible they struck a balance between rules to protect the youngest and an encouragement towards personal autonomy as the apprentices moved towards being journeymen. The candidates in a Weyr might be no older than apprentices, but the whole purpose of their presence was to determine the leaders amongst them, and those who could not lead or stand up to bullies with the help of leaders would not be giving their whole lives to the Weyr in the same way an apprentice gave his life to the Craft he chose. They would not be remaining.

It was a little epiphany of how things worked and why the Weyr way did not work in a Hold, nor the Hold way in a Weyr. Prisca absorbed this thought, nodded, and filed it away.

"So, excuse me, Valys, wasn't it, WHAT sort of background has the girl who has yet to arrive got?" demanded the thick skinned Siresha.

Valys looked at her with dislike.

"She's the daughter of a Master Crafter, the head of a wealthy trader family who would find your airs and graces quite risible, my girl," said Valys, tartly. "the Shogar family are well respected across the north!"

Adine laughed.

"If she's the daughter of old man Shogar, she could buy your table-sized hold with her dress allowance," she said.

"Vulgarly put, old thing, but true," said Prisca. Even in Tillek, where her own Hold was situated Prisca had heard of the Shogar family; mostly, it may be said, from the Mulgan family, or more specifically from D're, who was wont to say that everything the Shogars touched turned to marks.

Siresha flushed angrily.

"Wealth isn't everything," she said.

"Oh no!" said Prisca, sweetly, "perhaps she'll have manners too, which have been strangely lacking since you arrived."

Siresha half raised her hand, and Prisca looked at her levelly.

"Siresha!" Valys snapped.

Siresha dropped her hand; but did not apologise. Valys looked at her helplessly. Prisca exchanged a look with Adine, who nodded agreement.

This one would have to be subdued by the dormitory.

Ketalla Shogar arrived with a trading team later that afternoon, a girl with strawberry blonde hair bleached with exposure to the elements, and a ruddy, outdoor face to go with it. The traders plainly intended to stay over several days to make visiting the Hold worth while, though Ketalla bid a fond farewell to the leader of the mule train to join the other girls. Her clothes were well made and Prisca recognised the fabrics as being of the best and most sturdy quality for riding, having learned to recognise the quality of the trews the weyrwomen wore. Siresha sneered at Ketalla's trews of soft hide.

"How inelegant!" she said, with a sniff.

"Siresha, what a provincial you are!" laughed Prisca, "why these are very similar to the trews most Weyrwomen wear, and I confess to envy!"

Ketalla laughed.

"Then go down to the trading train – they have the leathers to make them with, and I'm sure there's someone here who can make them up to fit you. You're a lean, fit girl, readymades will be baggy on you."

"And too tight on me," said Adine, "and if I do succeed well enough to be an apprentice, trews would be more practical than skirts. Come on, Prisca – let's go and buy, and negotiate a Tannercrafter to make up trews for us!"

Prisca nodded happily, and the two girls went in search of the skilfully tanned and dyed leathers, in the sorts of colours few provincial tanners could manage! These leathers had come from the Tannercraft Hall surely! Prisca chose a rich dark purple that would flatter her and show by the colour that she could afford the best. As Feytha was very good at making over gowns if they began to look shabby, Prisca had been able to save a lot of her dress allowance, and to give some to Feytha to have spending money as an apprentice too, so she had plenty to spare on such an extravagance.

Prisca reflected that she and Adine would probably have spent their last mark to show up Siresha in any case!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The paying girls were to take one meal a day with the Holder and his family – apart from his daughter who mostly stayed with the other apprentices – and could either eat in the big refectory at other meals, or collect a tray to eat in their sitting room cum classroom. Prisca, being nosy, preferred the idea of eating in the refectory, but as the other girls seemed to favour the idea of keeping themselves select, she sighed and drew up a rota for them to take turns at collecting food.

"Why can't the drudges bring it to us?" Siresha complained, predictably.

"Because it's a small Hold and they are doubtless busy with other duties," said Prisca. "It's once every two days, and you don't have to prepare the food; the kitchen drudges lay it out for us on a tray. Hardly onerous!"

Even the Prisca of old would have accepted that much work – with a bit of grumbling if the tray was heavy – but for Siresha it was an issue of status and she went on about this at some length.

"Really, Siresha, don't be so vulgar," said Adine. "If you were of the Blood you'd understand better that being waited on hand and foot just so marks you out as jumped up."

"I'm not of the Blood, but I know that much," said Prisca, "Being Beholden to a Seahold where ability is prized over Blood, and my father having proved himself."

"Oh, you mean you're next door to being a commoner?" said Siresha in some disgust.

Prisca laughed.

"We all are – as we're none of us Dragonriders," she said. "The privilege to Hold can be rescinded by a conclave, you know; if someone is too fond of being decorative and not fond enough of doing their duty. My father was one of a number of cousins of the previous Holder, who might have had some pretensions to be of the Blood – which in that region is more seawater than blood as you might say – and he impressed Lord Oterel the most out of the dozen or so rather dubious claimants, by presenting him with a neatly drawn up plan of what was needed to pull up the Hold after its previous ageing incumbent had rather let it run down."

Prisca knew this because of her more recent discussions with her father, and had been frankly impressed by his industry as well as grateful that it had been he who had been the one to succeed so she had the opportunity to have leisure.

"Your father sounds like a good Holder," said Adine.

"He is," said Prisca, "and my brother will be too, given a few years. He has the right instincts and will grow out of being a little slapdash. I grew out of being lazy, after all."

"Indolence is such an attractive habit!" laughed Adine. "I confess I rather let myself go when Shavalle thwarted my ambitions, so I shall have to get myself a bit in trim if I'm to hope to rush from class to class without being too puffed to play or sing!"

"You can work out with me, if you like," said Prisca, "I've taken up athletic dancing with acrobatic moves; even the simple moves are pretty good for fitness, vigour and a nice figure."

"That's how you keep so trim is it? I was envying you your figure," said Adine.

"I shouldn't mind joining in too," said Ketalla.

"Well, we shall start that before breakfast on the morrow, then," said Prisca. "I've never taught before but I didn't start so long ago that I've forgotten what I was taught."

Siresha shuddered.

"HOW unladylike!" she said.

"MUCH better sex though," said Prisca.

Adine laughed.

"Well, forthright and honest I see!" she said.

Prisca shrugged.

"There are those girls who are waiting for the special one, and most of the rest want to have fun," she said.

"I was waiting for a special one myself, but I don't have a problem with others having fun, if they're discreet and don't get us all into trouble," said Adine.

"Oh, I'm discreet," said Prisca.

"Sounds like it, boasting of your supposed prowess," sneered Siresha.

"Don't confuse frankness between ourselves with either lack of discretion or boasting," said Prisca. "as far as Valys is concerned, why I'm as pure as driven slush!"

Only Adine got this, and laughed.

The girls finished dressing for the evening meal, which was the one they were to share with the Holder's family, and went to his private quarters along the gallery with the window. Siresha shuddered artistically, and Ketalla stopped to stare out.

Prisca touched her arm.

"You feel claustrophobic in those rooms too?" she asked. Ketalla nodded.

"I've always travelled with a trader train," she said. "My father reckons it's the only way to learn the trade – and to learn not to be stuck up too. His grandfather expected it of HIS sons, and father is the one who stuck with it, and did best."

"He's probably right, at that," said Prisca. "You can't know timber if you don't get out amongst the trees; and I may not be an expert but I know enough not to sound like an idiot when talking to the loggers."

Talking to Felderata's husband had helped with that, as well as the notes her father had made when he first took over. Prisca had never actually considered the process of learning lessons as work because she liked finding things out, so had always appeared quite eager and animated to the loggers, giving them a better impression of her than perhaps she truly deserved.

Ketalla nodded.

"Nobody expects the person in charge to be an expert in all things, but to have a good passing knowledge of most, and to be ready to ask what they don't know. I'm here to learn politics and law as well as to gain a few womanly skills in case we meet some Holder who wants to marry me, as father is opposed to women leading a trading band. He has ambitions for me that are beyond my own, but as I have a brother willing and ready to take on the family, I have little choice," she made a face, "though personally I am happy to settle for a stewardship or headwoman somewhere if the opportunity presents itself."

"There are worse ambitions to have," said Prisca, having considered working under Keerana.

"WHAT are you two dallying over?" demanded Siresha.

Ketalla and Prisca exchanged a speaking glance and went on in to the meal.

oOoOo

Camtar, the Holder, was a short, stocky figure with a shock of unruly brown hair and laughter lines all about his eyes. He wore his Journeyman Harper knots under his Rank knots. He welcomed the girls to his home with a well trained and melodious voice; Prisca suspected that he might have gone on to make the leap to Master had not duty called him to Hold instead. She felt a pang of pity for him; but at least he could be a part of the life of the Harper Hall under his Holding.

Camval, the older of the two sons, had also succeeded in reaching Journeyman Harper and wore both sets of knots rather self consciously. He most resembled his father, but his brown hair was worn long and tied tightly back, slicked down with sweet oil. His apparel was plainly a matter of importance to him, for he dressed with care to make sure all his garments toned with each other, a contrast to Camtar, who was neat, but looked as though he dressed for comfort. Camval smiled at the four girls in the sort of way that declared without words that he knew his person and position must be attractive to them, whilst conveying the impression that he was aloof from such matters. Prisca recognised straight away the sort of young man he was, rather too impressed with himself and his position, and at his age in danger of becoming simultaneously and paradoxically a prig and a womaniser. She let her eyes dwell on him long enough to take all this in, then slid them off to look at his brother with a faintly bored look that she could see from the corner of her eye both infuriated him and filled him with chagrin.

Prisca could be like that, sometimes.

Valtar was taller, and looked like his mother, save for a shock of that same unruly brown hair; and Prisca felt that of the two he was the more attractive. There was something about that sort of hair that made women want to smooth it down; probably something that had appealed to Valys in their father. He looked as though his eyes would develop laughter lines too. Perhaps he was happier because he had the freedom to pursue his craft, thought Prisca; then abandoned that idea. Camval would have resented being the younger brother where Valtar perceived it as a freedom. She debated with herself the idea of having an affair with Valtar purely because she was the prettiest girl of the four and it would annoy Camval to be passed over; but abandoned the idea. Adine was flushing gently as she looked at the younger Harper. Prisca had her faults, but stealing the object of another girl's interest was not one of them. And actually, marrying Valtar would give Adine the opportunity to stay and study music, even if she never did manage to apprentice and reach Journeyman in her own right, and would be an escape from a stepmother whom Prisca thought sounded most unpleasant. She would do what she might to promote the match.

There was an attraction to the sort of interfering that T'lana was notorious for doing.

Siresha, on the other hand, had no sort of scruples where that might be concerned, though whether she had even noticed Adine's interest was debateable. Prisca somehow doubted that Siresha noticed anything that did not pertain to Siresha. She was preening coyly, and glancing under her lashes at both brothers, plainly assessing her chances of playing one off against the other. She would doubtless never think that Adine was any rival to her dark good looks anyway; Adine had no claim to beauty at all, and Prisca thought it a shame her eyes were so pale or they might have given some animation to her rather placid face. On the other hand, there were men who liked placid and restful. And with some exercise to help Adine lose the excess flesh she was carrying, and her genuine interest in music, that might make Valtar notice her. He was noticing Siresha, but with a smile of cynical amusement playing on his lips. He noticed Prisca noticing him noticing and his eyes twinkled.

Prisca felt an ache of regret. He might have been a fun lover to have while she waited to be tracked down on Search. Well, he would make a nice husband for Adine. Prisca liked Adine even on short acquaintance, and so far as she put herself out for anyone, she was more likely to do so for someone she liked.

Camval also noticed Siresha, and Prisca noticed how the self esteem that had been dampened by her own bored lack of interest plainly grew under the stroking of his ego with all the vigour and enthusiasm of any erectile tissue stimulated by physical stroking. She hid a rueful grin, reflecting that she had been associating too long with people like T'lana to come up with thoughts that coarse.

The Weyrwomen and weyrwomen of High Reaches could never be accused of being coy. Somehow Prisca doubted this would be true of the Weyrwomen of Telgar Weyr; and they had no weyrwomen without the capital, for they did not believe in female Green riders nor in honouring their lower cavern staff, if all she had heard was true.

There was, however, no reason not to stealthily find ways to introduce such people as might become female Green riders to Impress in the tiers. Once Impressed, even Telgar could scarcely do anything but keep them; after all, Mirrim and Path were recognised at Benden, and there were rumours abroad that Igen was opening its Weyr to female Green Riders as well as the well established fact at High Reaches. Dismissing High Reaches as cranks and cripples was only feasible when it was the only Weyr to accept the unusual. Benden might be stuffy, but Mirrim could not be denied as the first Impressed female Green Rider.

"Have I got a spot?" asked Ketalla, at whom Prisca was gazing, thoughtfully.

"No… sorry Ketalla. I was thinking about something and you happened to be in front of where I was gazing into the middle distance," said Prisca, diplomatically. Letting her victims know that she had ideas involving them was never a good idea; and Ketalla seemed possible Green Rider material. So did Adine for that matter, if nothing happened between her and Valtar, maybe introduced as a musician to please Bedella.

Siresha finally decided to devote herself mostly to the older brother – after all, he was a possibility for a well-off, fairly well-connected husband – and Prisca smiled brightly, and asked Valtar,

"Has your mother told you that Adine hopes to take her studies further and become an apprentice?"

Valtar nodded.

"Yes, she did mention it. It will be harder work than most paying student expect to engage in, Lady Adine."

"I'm not afraid of that, Journeyman," said Adine.

"And Ketalla and I could help by hearing her," said Prisca. "My friend Feytha has come late to apprentice, I know she'd be so happy to have a friend nearer her age than the little boys she's probably level with."

Valtar smiled.

"Your friend? How nice. Yes, I'm aware of Apprentice Feytha's background – you have a generosity of spirit, Lady Prisca, which I like. She's not the most talented, but she has nimble fingers and a fine voice that has been taught properly, so she should have no difficulty in becoming a Journeyman, possibly even within the normal age, if she is a quick learner. Having two girls of similar age spurring each other on might help both. Lady Adine, if I can test you over the next sevenday, if I feel you can join Apprentice Feytha, will you object to moving directly to the female Apprentice dormitory to take up your apprenticeship forthwith rather than spending several months as a privileged paying student?"

"I'll take it as soon as I can get it, sir!" said Adine. "Will – will I be able to work out with Prisca? She said she'd teach Ketalla and me some acrobatic dancing."

Valtar raised an eyebrow. Prisca felt herself flush.

"I wanted to keep fit and be able to eat as much as I liked," she said, "so I learned some acrobatics from someone born into an acrobatic troupe who had married and settled. She taught me a lot, and it's helped."

"Well well, you are full of surprises!" said Valtar. "Perhaps my sister might like to learn too; if you'd accept her? then she can teach me, so I don't get left out. It would be too much to ask you ladies to accept a man in your classes. Where did you plan to undertake this venture?"

Prisca flushed.

"I was going to ask Valys if there was somewhere we might go."

"Use the Harper Hall exercise hall," interposed Camtar. "The youngsters learn fighting skills there; there's plenty of room. Valtar will show you after the meal so you can find your way, and will square it with the Master."

Valtar nodded.

"A good suggestion, father," he said, "and moreover the doors can be bolted from the inside to prevent prying eyes."

"Thank you," said Prisca.

"It doesn't sound very ladylike," objected Camval.

"That girl Prisca is not very ladylike at all," sniffed Siresha. "I have refused to join them on such a horrid venture, as I hardly need tell you!"

"One wonders why you bothered, then," said Adine, tartly. Valtar gave her a look of interest. Prisca was pleased. Adine could speak up for herself and Valtar would like her the better for it.

Siresha glowered at her.

"Really, Siresha, dear, please don't pull childishly vulgar faces while we are eating," said Valys, placidly.

Prisca rapidly re-assessed Valys. She had thought that she might find Siresha too much to cope with, but apparently she had developed a strategy of no-nonsense manner, and treating the girl like a child not a young woman. Valys caught her eye with apparent bovine docility but her eyes gleamed. Prisca had another sudden realisation. She, Adine and Ketalla only had to deal with Siresha for a few months while they were paying students. Valys was fighting HER corner against having the girl as a daughter in law!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

The exercise hall had proved ideal, with a good wooden floor and lightly padded mats backed with some kind of gum that meant they would not slip. Prisca was pleased; being bruised from falling when tumbling was no fun at all.

She woke at her accustomed early hour, and gently shook Adine and Ketalla. The trader girl was already coming awake, and grinned.

"Overslept; soft bed," she said.

Adine groaned, and almost looked as though she wanted to cry off.

"He's worth it," murmured Prisca. She herself knew the power of enlightened self interest.

Adine looked startled.

"How did you…" she began.

"Because when you looked at him you looked like a cross between a wherry with a sudden spear up it, and a kid who's just Impressed," said Prisca.

"Graphic," said Adine. "Ketalla, are those two firelizards yours?" there green and blue were making friends with Adine's little green pet.

"Yes," said Ketalla, "I told them to keep their distance until I was sure they'd be safe. I don't think that horrid Siresha can hurt them."

"She'd better not try," said Prisca, "They are – albeit distantly – related to dragons, and that's disrespecting dragonkind."

The girls slipped out in the dark of predawn, Adine shivering and reminding herself that it was worth it. The paths were kept swept clear of snow and Prisca wondered if it was a punishment duty for apprentices.

The girl Camys was waiting for them, as was Feytha.

"You're surely not considering acrobatics, are you Feytha?" asked Prisca. Feytha shook an emphatic head.

"No, er, Prisca, but I've watched you often enough, and I thought I could notice if anyone does things wrong if you're trying to watch several; and I'm mostly here to give Camys some moral support."

"Most paying girls are tunnel snakes, and stuck up," opined Camys. "Girls who want to do things are a bit out of my experience."

"Well, maybe some of us will surprise you by not being in the common mould," said Prisca.

"I notice the tall one, who's going to be a sour and acidulated old auntie one day, didn't come along at all," noted Camys.

"And no loss to the rest of us," opined Ketalla.

"As a matter of interest, how many tunnel snakes try to marry your oldest brother?" Prisca asked, conversationally as she set out the mats to her satisfaction.

"Most of them," said Camys, "But Mother usually manages to choke them off. She and father had to work together with one, last turn; father started howling like a hound, and mother hurried him off then apologised to the girl that she'd been late with his medicine, sighed, and said that it would soon start to happen with Camval and she really needed to find him a wife before it was too late for him to breed sons. That worked."

"I LIKE your parents," said Prisca.

"Yes, but don't ever tell Camval," said Camys, "he doesn't know and has no idea why she suddenly cooled on him."

They all laughed.

"I don't think Valtar is such a fool as to be taken in," said Adine.

"No; and he wants a musical wife who really IS musical, not who can play a little," said Camys. "Are you the one hoping to apprentice? You look jolly, so with you and Feytha to choose from at least he does have some options coming along now."

Both Adine and Feytha choked a little on that.

"Too young for tact," said Prisca, dryly.

"You never warn the punters that you're planning on selling to them until they've committed to buy, young Camys!" said Ketalla.

Camys flushed, but laughed.

"Right," said Prisca, "the first lessons are a bit tedious because you need to learn how to fall – in case things go wrong. I was a bit impatient at first but I was glad I stuck with it because it was the difference between some bad bruising and a broken arm when I did make a mistake later."

"Please would you show us some of the things you can do?" asked Camys. "Feytha has tried to describe it, but I think we'd find it easier to stick to the boring bits if we had an incentive."

Prisca nodded. There was some sense in that. And with such a wonderful floor she could let herself go as she had been unable to do in the Hold. She did a few limbering up exercises, warning them that she would take them through these as a daily routine too, and then performed a couple of tumbling runs, with the joining dance moves. She was not satisfied; the lack of ideal conditions meant that she had performed some of the moves clumsily, and she was surprised by the spontaneous applause from her audience.

"I don't know why you're clapping, I made four bad mistakes," she said crossly.

"Most of us would be happy to perform half as well, you wherry," said Adine, dryly. "Why did you make mistakes?"

"Because the place I can practise in winter has a stone floor and is about a quarter the size of this room," said Prisca. "Very little room for a run-up; so I've had to compromise what I can do. I'll enjoy working out here. Very well; limbering up exercises."

Prisca had a fair idea how to teach girls; she had absorbed T'lana's methods if only by resenting them. They were loose and warmed by the time she took them on to simple rolls, which were, as she well knew, actually scary enough to someone who had never actually been upside-down for any reason. Handsprings and somersaults and cartwheels were a long way away for these girls, even the athletic looking Ketalla, who at least was finding jumping and vaulting movements easier for leaping into the saddle of a runner beast.

Prisca did lose track of time, however, though she knew how long her own exercise routine took, and Feytha said dryly,

"That was the apprentice rising bell; time to finish. Camys and I have our lessons ahead – and so do you!"

"Thanks, Feytha!" said Prisca. "Have a good day! We'll see you two again tomorrow, then."

The other girls helped her to tidy the mats and then they too hurried back to the Hold, glad they had brought cloaks against the cold, after having sweated freely. A quick bath, and a change of clothes and a lot of giggling over Siresha's unladylike snores and they were more than ready for breakfast!

oOoOo

Siresha came in to breakfast rather sulkily, moaning about the early hour. She was ignored by the other girls who had largely finished eating by the time she came in. Siresha was still finishing when Valtar came in.

"Dear me, Siresha, you're rather late, you'll have to do better than that to get to classes on time, I'm not going to hold the others up just because you are tardy."

Siresha flushed angrily.

"But it's too early to have to start work!" she complained.

"Nonsense; the apprentices started an hour ago," said Valtar. "It's no earlier than you were expected to work in the Weavercraft Hall at Rivenhill – yes, I do know about that, and you won't get away with giving apprentices concussion HERE may I tell you. Because I'd whip you myself if you did."

"You WOULDN'T!" gasped Siresha, going white.

"If I were you, I really wouldn't be trying me to see," said Valtar in a level, even pleasant, tone. "And believe me, if you don't get your wherry-kite claws out of my brother I'll tell him all about what happened at Rivenhill too. I don't intend to have a screechy voiced harridan for a sister in law. Now if we have that out of the way we can get on with lessons in a professional manner with me issuing instructions and you obeying them. We have that clear? Excellent," as Siresha stared in numbed acquiescence. He had not raised his voice or strayed from a good humoured tone once.

Prisca was beginning to wonder whether Telgar Weyr needed a Weyrsinger as well as female Green Riders. He had summed up Siresha very well and jerked the carpet from under her feet before she got going.

What a shame Adine had already set her sights on him…

Valtar was talking again.

"Siresha, you're here to brush up a few musical skills, however for anyone expecting to hold Rank, a look at the Charter never comes amiss. Ketalla, you're brushing up your musical skills and studying history and politics as is Prisca, if you two girls can work together I can test Adine, and Siresha will want to put the tray outside the door for a drudge to collect and maybe wash hands after breakfasting, and fetch her favourite instrument. You two girls, here is a copy of the Charter and I have written a list of questions here on this sheet of paper, you may have a clean sheet of paper each to write answers as fully as you can. If there's anything you don't understand, I'll go through it with you."

Siresha took herself sulkily off to wash, and actually obeyed the stricture to take the tray out too! The morning passed pleasantly enough – at least Prisca found it so, the questions were searching, but with application of thought, and reference to the Charter, not particularly difficult. Ketalla seemed to have more trouble and chewed much on the wooden outside of the charcoal rod they were using to write with. Prisca wondered idly if it were charcoal from her own Hold, proud to produce something that was used by the Weyr for its artists and the new Printcraft Hall as well as by the Harpercraft. Pencils of graphite were better than charcoal, but harder to obtain; though there was an explosion of demand for all writing materials since paper was becoming more plentiful.

Siresha arrived back, and Valtar left Adine with some written exercises to complete while he checked Siresha's understanding of reading music, and checked her fingering on the gitar that was the usual instrument of choice of young Ranking girls. They broke for a mug of klah and to move around and stretch as they chose, then the second half of the morning was to be devoted to playing together.

"I don't expect any of you to be able to sight read well enough to pick up a sheet of music and play it," said Valtar, "not like an apprentice must be able to do. So I shall play through this piece and you will follow it with your fingers, and then we shall play it together. I hope we will be able to add harmonies to it – but don't worry, I shan't expect anyone except perhaps Adine to craft the harmonies. I have other sheets already worked out."

Prisca heaved a sigh of relief. She was competent enough to follow music, and might even have had a stab at sight reading, but she knew she could never craft harmonies. Feytha should enjoy herself doing that, though, as she was skilled at adding improvisations to well-known tunes.

Adine was following readily as Valtar played, Ketalla was struggling, and Prisca managed reasonably well. To her half disappointment, Siresha seemed to follow well enough too. She had plainly had a competent grounding in music as part of her upbringing. Well at that, thought Prisca, it might make life easier if the unpleasant girl in the dormitory was not also whining about failing to perform and finding someone else to blame it on.

After listening, the girls played along with Valtar. Prisca was not especially skilled but she did enjoy music, and she noted that Siresha played correctly and with no feeling, Adine made some slight errors but made up for it by being a part of the music, and Ketalla played with neither enthusiasm nor feeling, and with a number of mistakes. Prisca herself was pleased to get through the piece without too many problems. Valtar was trying not to wince.

"Ketalla," he said kindly, "do you want to even learn to play at all?"

Ketalla hung her head.

"Not really, Journeyman," she said, "but my father desired me to learn the gitar."

"Is there an instrument you prefer?" asked Valtar.

"I quite enjoy the Gather whistle," said Ketalla, "father said a lady should know gitar though."

"Parents aren't always right," said Valtar. "We'll try you on recorder, which is as close to those pipes made and sold at Gathers as makes no odds – assuming the Gather whistle is made properly – and if you get on better, well, we can consider other wind instruments. You look most uncomfortable with a gitar."

Ketalla brightened.

"May I really? I am not really bothered if I can perform for others or not; I amuse myself by whistling and singing, but I would not wish to disrespect my father, you know!"

"It is well to have respect for one's parents and be aware they have your best interests at heart whilst also being aware that they might make wrong suggestions for not knowing the full range of options," said Valtar with what Prisca thought was commendable diplomacy.

Patiently Valtar ran through the mistakes with Adine and then Prisca, and then turned to Siresha, who was looking bored and rather smug.

"Siresha, why do you want to play music?" asked Valtar.

"To entertain of course; why else?" said Siresha.

"Then I suggest you need to do a lot of work," said Valtar.

"What do you mean? I was note-perfect! Not like those other stupids!" Siresha almost screeched.

"I hope you don't hope to sing if you spoil a perfectly good voice by mimicking a wherry in season," said Valtar, dryly. "My good kid, note-perfect doesn't mean well played; there was no feeling at all in your playing."

"Feeling? What do you mean, feeling?" Siresha stared at him, angrily.

"The piece has a lilt to it, a suggestion of dance rhythm, of romance," said Valtar, "It's called, 'her first dance' which should suggest to you the excitement of a maiden at her first Gather dance… Great Shells, girl, you are staring at me as though I'm speaking nonsense, do you really not know what I'm talking about?"

"I haven't a clue," said Siresha. "How can music have feelings? It's notes played in order for people to listen to. I don't particularly enjoy listening to it, but it's one of the skills one is supposed to have. And I'm very good at it, I never play a note wrong."

Valtar groaned and dropped his face into his hands.

"Why me?" he muttered. "Siresha, surely you've heard pieces that can move you to tears? Fill you with joy? Make you feel good?"

The girl was staring uncomprehendingly at him.

"No," she said. "Do you mean it's not all pretence when people sometimes cry over a visiting Harper's playing? Isn't it just a form of exhibitionism to do anything except politely applaud the rendition?"

"Oh dear," murmured Valtar. "Well, Siresha, if music cannot make you feel, then I can hardly justifiably berate you for a lack of feeling in your playing. I fear you will never manage anything but a correct and mechanical rendition of the notes. Perhaps if you hope to marry a Holder, you too might like to devote more time to politics and history and less to playing, like Prisca and Ketalla?"

Siresha pulled a face.

"Oh I don't think so," she said. "Dull and dusty subjects! I need to learn to play a wider repertoire than I know to make my playing more interesting."

"It'll take a deal more than a wider repertoire to manage that," Valtar muttered to himself; Prisca caught the gist though. She actually pitied Siresha for her lack of understanding. Siresha might perform with more technical expertise, but Prisca thanked Faranth that she, Prisca, could better appreciate the music of others than the other girl. And so sad that Siresha seemed not to even realise the lack in herself but was pleased with herself for being note-perfect and looking down on those who could play with more expression even if with less accuracy.

This was another little revelation for Prisca as she recalled the superior air she had worn at the Weyr, looking down on those girls who had really understood what it was to work towards being a dragonrider. She flushed in embarrassment.

"Prisca?" said Valtar, concerned by the look of mortification that crossed the girl's face.

"Nothing sir – just remembering a time when I, like poor Siresha here, failed to comprehend something and thought myself the better for that failure," said Prisca.

"I take it you grew up," said Valtar, dryly.

"Yes, sir," said Prisca, simply.

Siresha was staring in outrage.

"POOR Siresha? How DARE you! There is NOTHING you can pity me for, you wretched girl, you from your horrid woodhold, MY family Hold is a Minehold that produces the finest jewels! And I can play properly, not fumble the notes like you! How DARE you!"

She had risen, her hand half raised.

"Sit DOWN, Siresha," said Valtar.

For a moment, Prisca thought the angry girl was about to strike Valtar; but she dropped her hand, before his steady gaze.

"You are pretentious!" she cried, "all of you, pretending to understand this 'feeling' that Harpers make up and talk about, just to try to make people feel inadequate and making it a craft secret!"

"Feeling's hardly a craft secret, you ass," said Ketalla, "it's the same thing as getting choked up over a beautiful view as you come over a rise and see it; or the beauty of dragons; or even a well painted picture. It's how you feel when the Weavercraft sewers have surpassed themselves in making your clothes and you look wonderful in them."

Siresha stared.

"I have no part of these vulgar emotions you commons have," she said. "As to my clothes, they are supposed to fit and I wouldn't pay for them if they did not."

Ketalla stared at her.

"Are you wanting?" she asked, bluntly.

Adine was looking horrified.

"But Siresha, everyone is moved by seeing something beautiful – like the playful columns of the frozen waterfall outside, that catches the sun like a prism!" she said. "It's not vulgar at all, everyone feels it."

"Not, apparently, Siresha," said Prisca, looking at Siresha's look of confusion. "And THAT was why I was pitying you, Siresha, because if you cannot be moved by aesthetic emotion, then you are missing out on an awful lot."

"Why all that fuss about frozen water?" wondered Siresha. "I think you're all hateful, and I don't believe a word of what any of you are saying, aesthetic emotion indeed! You're making it up!"

"You poor deprived child," said Valtar, in spontaneous sympathy.

"I am not poor!" Siresha really did screech that time, and banged out of the room.

Ketalla whistled.

"Wretched piece of work, but I do feel sorry for her," she said. "I don't have the imagination or skill to draw, or make up music, but I surely can appreciate what others do, and what magnificent views I've seen when travelling, even though sometimes one is too fatigued to appreciate them properly."

"I, too, feel sorry for her," said Prisca, "but from my own experience, you won't be able to tell her. She has to figure out for herself she's missing something, and if it's as basic as appreciation of beautiful things for anything beyond their monetary value, I fancy she's not ever going to get there."

"Is it really nice to discuss her when she isn't here?" said Adine.

Prisca smiled at her.

"Not entirely, but I guess if it's in a spirit of wishing we could help, not gossiping, then that makes it better," she said.

"Indeed," said Valtar. "However, we cannot, as you so ably point out, Prisca, help Siresha until or unless she is able to admit she needs help. Meanwhile, if we can run through the piece once more, we can hope she has calmed down enough to join us after the meal."

They played it again, and with the confidence of having played it through once, Prisca made fewer mistakes, despite the unsettling nature of Siresha's lack of aesthetic appreciation. Prisca could hear Adine adding more nuances, and though Ketalla stumbled a little with the recorder Valtar had produced from a cupboard for her use, she was plainly more at home with it than on the gitar.

The three girls went to the noon meal with a feeling that they had accomplished quite a lot, and tacitly chose to go to the main refectory to leave their living room for Siresha's private use when she emerged to eat.

"I think it's going to be fun, despite Siresha," opined Ketalla.

Adine nodded; and so did Prisca.

She might not be here to have fun, but it was worth enjoying herself as well if she might do so!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

Prisca got back from eating to hear Valys informing Siresha sternly that she WOULD continue to attend lessons, unless she cared to write to her father to ask to be excused the rest of her term as a paying student. However, if she did not care so to do, Siresha WOULD be expected respect both the expert who was teaching her, and her fellow students, and would not cry the lie direct on them for something she was plainly too stupid to understand.

Prisca thought it harsh, but then reminded herself that Valys really did not want Siresha as a daughter in law.

She also reminded herself that pitying Siresha for her deficiency had been what had made the girl fly off the handle in the first place; and perhaps laying down the law would work better. She waylaid Valys however.

"It's partly my fault, though not intentional," she said. "I showed pity for her that she can't understand, and that riled her good and proper. I can't think why her Hold Harper agreed to her coming here, she hasn't a musical bone in her body. I'm not much good but at least I appreciate, and I'm here for the education more than the music anyway."

"I expect the Hold Harper did not dare tell an equally unmusical parent that playing the right notes in the right order doesn't constitute being a musician," said Valys. "You're a good girl to feel compassion for her, and to tell me the source of her temper tantrum. I suggest you have as little to do with her as you can, though, for I don't think compassion is going to get you anywhere but hurt."

"I'd come to that conclusion myself," said Prisca, dryly. "If I can see an opening, I'll have to try," she added.

The weyrwomen and Weyrwomen of High Reaches always tried. And if she was supposed to become a Queenrider in Telgar – or conceivably a Green Rider, she reminded herself, if anyone was a better choice for the next Queen – then she really ought to cultivate a habit of sorting people out. It appeared to be a requirement. Besides, having happy settled people around was a lot more comfortable and less fatiguing than conflict; even with Siresha being something of a veetol in the ointment it was more comfortable than being around her various cousins and their games of spite and vindictive jealousy. In truth, sorting people out might be hard work, but made for less fatigue in the long run.

"Well, you seem sensible enough not to get yourself hurt," said Valys, patting her on the arm.

"I hope she doesn't hurt Camval," said Prisca.

"Oh he'll take a dent to his pride but no more," said Valys. "You hadn't ambitions in his direction had you? I don't think you'd suit," she added, looking at Prisca, narrowly.

Prisca shook her head a little too violently for tact.

"Not my type," she said, "but I noticed her making eyes. Not my business, I suppose."

"No, but it never stopped me interfering either," said Valys. "Camval can… well, no, he can't take care of himself where women are concerned, but that's why boys have mothers."

Prisca laughed. It was a rueful laugh. Her mother would be no use at all fending off unsuitable females from Caspri!

oOoOo

The afternoon started with history lessons; it was deemed unreasonable to have to sing on full stomachs, so Journeyman Valtar told tales of history.

"We know more history than previously because of books and journals found at 'Landing'," he told them, "but in the main, what we have has been preserved by copying and recopying on precious parchment. Some of the records have been lost, alas, by the poor preservation of some of the parchments, and Master Arnor's special students do their best to piece together fragmentary stories and recreate what they can from clues in Hold records – where there are such, and when the Holders are willing for Harpers to copy them – and Weyr records, and so on. Most Weyrs are happy to permit access to old records," he said. His eyes with a brief frown flicked almost involuntarily towards the East where Telgar Weyr lay. Prisca hid a smile. If all went well, she would be able to use duties as a candidate and hopefully junior Weyrwoman to copy such records to smuggle out to the Harper Hall.

"But what does it matter? Who cares about old stories of people dead and gone?" asked Siresha.

"Because if we had only been able to read a record recently deciphered about an ambitious Holder in the fourth interval, over in Lemos, the signs of what Fax was about would have been obvious and he could have been stopped before he caused such deadly mayhem, that might have been even worse had not F'lar of Benden recognised the signs of the return of Thread, and took matters into his own hands," said Valtar, grimly. "Without the lessons of history, people are bound to repeat its disasters. Without the lessons of history, we should not have known about Thread. That knowledge was kept alive only by the teaching ballads outside of the Harper Hall; teaching ballads banned by Fax. And even so, they had become misunderstood. Without clarity and completeness things are forgotten. The Farmercraft were adjured 'look for the grubs'. They looked for the grubs – and destroyed them, because the reason to look for them had been forgotten. Learning and history, the province of the Harpers, had been discredited by more than just Fax; mostly by the idiotic and overbred who were convinced that their noble blood deserved short-term gain and that warnings of history and traditions kept alive by the Harpers was nothing more nor less than interference to stop them doing as they pleased! Bunch of Fork-openings!"

"But they have their bad points too," said Prisca.

Valtar stared, then he laughed.

"Yes, I apologise for getting irate at such idiocy," he said. "I hope I've made it clear why history is important."

"I should think after that clear explanation, Journeyman, anyone who isn't a complete idiot ought to understand," said Ketalla.

Whether Siresha understood or not might have been debateable; but she was not about to open herself to being called a complete idiot! Valtar went on with the lesson by explaining the earliest history of the colony, as far as it was known, and how the Pernese had come from a planet around another star which was believed to be called Earth and which fiction from that planet indicated it to have one moon, a turn of approximately the same length as Pern's, and a day not far from the same as a Pernese day. Why and how they had come vast distances across space was a mystery; but come they had, and had soon discovered that here was a danger that was unknown to them – Thread! The story was exciting and Prisca could not but pity the colonists, being exposed to Thread without foreknowledge of its dangers! They broke for a drink and comfort break and it seemed too soon!

The rest of the afternoon was given to singing, after breathing exercises. The breathing exercises were somewhat uncomfortable, but Prisca reflected that being able to breathe better would probably enhance her tumbling too, for adding better control, and if they increased her ability to breathe in would mean she would get less breathless. She concentrated hard.

Siresha had started a complaint about not needing to be taught how to breathe as anyone who didn't know was dead; and Valtar took the line with her that she was making childishly facetious jokes. Prisca thought Siresha was stupid enough to be in earnest; but chose to keep her mouth shut. Siresha lapsed into sulky silence but her face did show some dawning understanding as Valtar went through the exercises. Prisca suspected privately that Siresha would use voice control purely to bellow when singing, being the sort of girl who had to sound as though she was a solo when singing in a group.

After this they sang some of Menolly's songs, and some amusing little rounds about dragons that Journeyman Valtar said had been written by one of the most talented apprentices in the Harper Hall since Menolly, a girl called Meeri.

"Oh, I know something of Meeri," said Prisca, startled into blurting it out. "She is talented!"

"You do?" Valtar was startled.

Prisca shrugged.

"I know her cousin, who's now Green Rider T'arla," she said, letting the implication lie that she had perhaps known the erstwhile Tassarla before Impression. "I heard she's so talented she can't help tuning all the time. As well she's a special of Master Domick!"

Prisca HAD known Tassarla before Impression, and they had not got on at all well. However, the adult Prisca had to admit that T'arla had what it took to be a Dragonrider, as well as being very musical. She had enjoyed the efforts of the High Reaches Harperweyr. Since Prisca had made that suggestion to her father regarding going out early to Sweep, she had received a few friendly visits from the more kindly female Green Riders who had brought her up to date with Weyr news. This was mostly gentle J'nara who was happy to gossip about her favourite people, and who had inside news of the Harperweyr from her sister C'lara.

Valtar nodded.

"Yes, Pern needs people who can tune successfully," he said. "I understand Meeri is slated for as much greatness in Tunecrafting as Master Domick himself, although she's been held back from being made Journeyman on account of her age. But then," he added as Siresha was starting to look outraged at being expected to sing the tunes of an apprentice, "most of our teaching Ballads were re-set using tunes written by the former Masterharper, Master Robinton, many years before he even started a formal apprenticeship. Some people are just so talented that they surpass the conventions of age and experience. Shall we try this round?"

They sang with gusto,

"_Flames in the night, flames in the night_

_Dragons in a flight, dragons in a flight_

_Flaming so bright, flaming so bright_

_Thread charred tonight, No need for fright_"

It was a simple little round, but effective.

"It's very pretty," said Adine.

"You'll like some of the fugues she's writing too," said Valtar. "Perhaps as your more advanced lessons you might like to play one with me?"

"I should like that a lot," said Adine, flushing.

Prisca hid a smile. That was coming along quite satisfactorily without having to push it at all.

oOoOo

The pattern for the days ahead was set; early rising for Prisca to teach the other girls some acrobatics, and to work out herself, then the lessons, private study and written exercises followed by instrumental training in the mornings, history and singing in the afternoons. The private study led very rapidly to the writing of essays on the students' own views about a point of law, or a particular situation, or how the Charter related to some incident. Siresha complained a lot about this and called it a waste of precious paper. Valtar smiled serenely and said that the Hall and its paying students had been offered almost unlimited paper from the new Printcrafter Hall at High Reaches. Prisca personally suspected T'lana of having a hand in that, not so much for her own benefit – Prisca was not so vain any more – but for the promulgation of education from a centre that seemed to be full of forward looking people. Her own education to be in place at the right place and at the right time was important, but she had a shrewd suspicion that T'lana would expect her to assimilate knowledge even without this very helpful aid.

As it was Prisca rather enjoyed writing essays. She enjoyed debating each side, if this was appropriate, in the body of her text, and then drawing a conclusion based on law, precedent and the Charter. In one case, she found herself stating that a clear cut answer did not appear to be obvious and that any Harper officiating in this case must do his best to make a decision based on his gut instinct and the personalities involved. Valtar had been more pleased with that than Prisca had expected, and praised her for being bold enough to declare that the situation was too complex to decide on paper.

It did not take more than a few days for Adine to be packing her carisack again, and bidding her erstwhile dormitory mates farewell as she moved to the Female Apprentice dormitory. Prisca bade her good luck, warmly; she was going to miss Adine, but truly did wish her good luck. And they continued to meet first thing to exercise, where Adine bubbled happily about how fine it was to be an apprentice, and what nice girls Feytha and Camys were, even if Camys was rather young. And then she kissed Prisca warmly on the cheek and said,

"And you're a nice girl to give Feytha such an opportunity and to keep it secret!" from which Prisca might infer that Feytha had confessed to her new friend that she had been Prisca's drudge once.

Prisca murmured something about not trammelling talent, and Adine laughed and kissed her again.

"And you are a nice girl to be her friend and not to care," said Prisca, firmly.

"Oh, apprentices are all the same Rank," said Adine, airly, "and I'm PROUD to be an apprentice because it's something I can DO, not something I was BORN."

"Good point," said Prisca.

Feytha seemed to be settling in well with the other two girls here, so that responsibility no longer lay on Prisca; she could take pleasure in meeting with Feytha and Adine and to a lesser extent with young Camys and hearing their news, without having to be concerned that a dependent of hers needed more support. This meant that Prisca could throw herself into enjoying what she was learning, because the time until she might be Searched was indeterminate. Naturally T'lana could not really have any contact with Prisca in case she was seen by any Rider from Telgar, who would, not unnaturally, want to know what a Queenrider from another Weyr was doing in their territory. Prisca hoped that T'lana might send a message carried by her little queen firelizard, Merry, if she heard of a clutch being laid.

And then of course there would be the concern that this little Hold might not be Searched – though it did have a courtesy smokeless weyrling as a transport, even if it was only for Harper Hall business. Who would, of course, report any unauthorised Riders from High Reaches Weyr. Well, thought Prisca, it was no point worrying about anything until things went wrong. T'lana's hunches were well known, and Prisca decided that the only thing to do was to trust in them and hope all went according to plan; and to enjoy herself and learn as much as possible in the meantime.

oOoOo

It was the trader train that brought the news that there had been a mating flight out of Telgar Weyr at long last; the flight had evidently not come west, or it would have been likely that the inmates of Hold and Hall would have seen it.

"Three long months and five hot weeks," murmured Prisca to herself. "When was this mating flight, good Trader?" she asked out loud. The leader of the Traders was dining with the family and paying students to bring news to them.

"Matter o' six week I reckon," said the trader, thinking for a moment and calculating in his head.

"I wonder why the news wasn't drummed?" said Prisca.

"Bless you, missy, you ain't from a Hold beHolden to Telgar, are you?" said the trader, laughing.

"No, I come from the High Reaches," said Prisca.

"Well then! The Weyrfolk ain't going to broadcast their business, nowise, and nobody ain't going to irritate 'em by broadcasting it for 'em," he said. "High Reaches, eh? Open and friendly folks there, and ready to Search anywhere, even the Holdless. One of my boys stood for Mirrith's last clutch in the autumn, he'll stay for his three goes though he wasn't successful that time; reckon he stands a good chance!" he added.

"I wish him every luck," said Prisca.

"What, hoping for a Golden Queen, Prisca?" sneered Siresha.

Prisca shrugged.

"What girl hasn't dreamed of it?" she said. "I may have gained enough knowledge of law and history to be able to hold the position well enough now."

"What's that got to do with it?" demanded Siresha. "You're being stupid."

"Actually, Siresha," said Holder Camtar quietly, "Prisca is making a pretty fair assessment of what the task of being a leader – any leader, be it Holder, Crafter or Weyrleader, or leader of a band of Traders – needs. An appreciation of politics, law, custom and history. Her studies, like Ketalla's, have enabled her to be ready to hold position as a pro-active Holder's wife, a steward or headwoman in any Hold or Craft, or Weyr for that matter; and would enable her to fit in to carrying out the many administrative duties that fall on a Weyrwoman too. Do you wish to go on Search if there is a Queen egg, Prisca?"

"If I am Searched, I would abrogate my responsibility to dragonkind to refuse," said Prisca.

Camtar nodded.

"A good answer," he said. "I would freely give you my blessing, as I'm sure your own father would, and if you should Impress, I am sure he will be as proud of you as if you returned to become your brother's steward, as I believe you had considered."

"It seemed a good plan," said Prisca. "I like his betrothed wife well enough which is always a good start."

"It is indeed," said Camtar. "I doubt, however, you will find such easy camaraderie in Telgar Weyr as you are used to in your own Hold or here. I believe there are many tensions, not least between the senior Weyrwoman and the Headwoman of the lower caverns. There's history there."

"A story, sir?" begged Ketalla, her eyes sparkling.

Camtar hesitated.

"It's fairly common knowledge to anyone with ears," said the trader.

Camtar shrugged.

"Very well then. It's said that Bedella and Krysara, the Headwoman, were both candidates for Solth in the Old Time. Krysara was the daughter of a senior Rider – I don't know the details,"

"Brown Rider and wing leader, I heard," supplied the trader,

"Thank you," said Camtar, " – Brown Rider then, and was certain she would Impress. Bedella was not so well born by Weyr etiquette. They took most of their candidates from within the Weyr in those days. Anyway, Bedella Impressed and by the time there was another Queen, Krysara was judged to be out of age, and settled down to work her way up the non-Riding hierarchy. But Bedella never forgot that Krysara had crowed over her. More than that, for respect to dragonmen, I will not say. But there are going to be… tensions… Prisca, so be well warned in advance."

"Thank you, sir," said Prisca.

That was even worse than T'lana had intimated – and possibly T'lana did not know. The little red haired Weyrwoman had a knack of finding a lot of things out – or was told by her many friends, including the incurably nosy Blue Rider Harper T'rin – but to say that Telgar Weyr and High Reaches Weyr did not exchange much information was the understatement of the turn. Well, it might be turned to advantage; if she, Prisca, could please Bedella by taking on a lot of the administration AND manage to get on the good side of Krysara, then there was a good chance of being at the centre of everything that went on. And if she did not Impress, then to offer to be Bedella's personal aide, as Elena had offered to Pilgra at High Reaches was another alternative.

Prisca let the subject drop and concentrated on her food, hiding a mix of eagerness, fear and a number of emotions she could not even name.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Spring came suddenly and beautifully to the mountainous little Hold, and the waterfall lived up to its name of Brightwater once again, gleaming in the sunlight as it laughed its immoderate way off the ledge from the tarn above, swelled with meltwater. The high pastures around were suddenly full of bright flowers and the air was alive with the humming of wings and the cries, squawks and whistles of weesweets, competing for mates. Prisca took herself off alone for a walk on a free afternoon, and found a high pasture not yet filled with herds, where the vegetation was soft and springy, and in sheer joy of living – and after checking for stray rocks – she proceeded to tumble and dance on the verdant turf.

As she paused for breath she became aware that she was being watched; and as she looked around she realised that what she had taken for a rock in silhouette was in fact a Blue dragon, his Rider watching her quizzically.

Prisca flushed; she had been showing off to herself, and somehow felt uncomfortable that this performance had been overlooked by another. She bowed a little stiffly to the dragon and inclined her head politely to the Rider.

"Do you always perform acrobatics for dragons?" the man drawled.

"I was unaware I was observed, Blue Rider," said Prisca, "The sun being behind your dragon, I fear I took him for part of the rock face, for I could not, at that angle, appreciate his beauty," she added softly. She knew dragons could have their feelings hurt by people speaking carelessly of them.

The man's face softened as he came forward. It was, she now saw, a face much scarred by Thread. He was an older man than the youths Prisca normally found attractive, but she felt a sudden tightness of lust in her belly. His eyes widened slightly and his nostrils flared.

"Streth asks me to convey his appreciation of your recognition of his beauty. He didn't lose his," he indicated the scoring.

"I want you," said Prisca.

"Direct," he said.

"I know. Shameless of me, isn't it?" said Prisca. "I don't give a tunnel snake's turds about the score, you know. You aren't even my type, but I don't care."

"You're not my type either, I like them older, plumper and blonde as a rule," said the Blue Rider, "but if we're being direct…" and he jerked her into his arms and kissed her hard.

Prisca swayed and pressed against him, and started undoing his clothing.

He reciprocated; and naked, they rolled on the springy turf in a passion of lust that took Prisca's breath away, giving and taking.

"Shells!" he grunted at last. "You're quite something, girl!"

She laughed shakily.

"I could say the same of you, Blue Rider! I've- it's never been as good as that!"

He caressed her naked body and she shivered in pleasure, and a little in cold as the breezes played on the sheen of sweat. He pulled his flying jacket over both of them.

"Makes me wish we took girls for Greens at Telgar," he said, "I'd be sore tempted to Search you when we have a clutch. I know you have power for sure."

"I – I wish so too," said Prisca. Maybe she could still do a lot for T'lana if she came for a Queen egg and Impressed a Green. She decided to voice part of that thought. "If there's a Queen egg, if I Impressed a Green accidentally because I was willing, if I came on Search…" she said.

He snorted.

"If Talmanth could manage to lay a Queen. Short flight. Nice thought, though, girl. What's your name, and where are you from?"

"I'm Prisca, originally of Talltrees Hold in Tillek, but I'm a paying student of the Harper Hall attached to Brightwater Hold down there," said Prisca. "What's your name, Blue Rider?"

"A paying student? Well, I hope there won't be any trouble from this for tumbling a Holder's brat," said the Blue Rider. "My name's St'adar."

"St'adar. I like it," said Prisca. "What trouble?"

"Pregnancy," said St'adar.

"I usually take herbs; I'm not an innocent," said Prisca. "Anyway, the deed is done, so we might as well do it again…"

He chuckled.

"I DO like you, Prisca!" he said. "I'm used to girls willing to lie with a Rider, who look away from my scars, and are all 'yes Blue Rider, anything you say, Blue Rider'. You know what you want and you aren't servile. And yet you aren't as arrogant as some of the stuck up little beasts who might be the sort to be paying studens, why are you laughing?"

"Siresha," giggled Prisca, "Who would be happy to tumble with a Rider for the prestige, would turn up her eyes at the scars and is so far beyond arrogant that most arrogant little brats seem filled with humility by comparison. We don't get on," she added.

"Do tell," said St'adar. "I think you made a suggestion…" and he began touching her and caressing her, always falling just short of touching the main erogenous zones until Prisca was shouting at him and demanding more.

"Say 'please'," he said.

"Crackdust take you, PLEASE!" said Prisca; then he was laughing, and pleasing her again.

The heat had gone out of the sun when they emerged, shivering, from a post coital lassitude, wrapped in each others' arms.

"I have to find some way of keeping you, you know," he said, conversationally.

"If there's no Queen egg as an excuse, I could offer my services as an administrator," said Prisca, "I'm pretty able with that sort of thing. I haven't been training to be able to play pretty tunes, but in law, politics, history and record keeping."

He whistled.

"Can you manage pretty tunes too?"

"If I have to," she said.

"Good, that will please Bedella as much as having someone who can keep records straight. Are you patient?"

"Not when your hand is there, no," said Prisca.

He moved, regretfully.

"We'd better dress….they'll miss you soon, anyway. I mean, can you wait until there's a clutch just to see if there's an easier way to sneak you into the weyr? If you'd give up your privileged life for me?"

"I would do so gladly," said Prisca. "And I'll wait. I'll wait for you until the sky falls."

He kissed her swiftly.

"I don't know what's come over me, acting like this," he said.

"Nor me," said Prisca. "Sometimes it's better to ignore the why and just go with the flow."

He nodded.

"I meant to ask. How come the acrobatics? They don't teach that to ladies, commonly, do they?" he asked.

"I wanted to eat as much as I liked and still have a good figure; I found myself a teacher," said Prisca.

"Faranth's egg, if there were a Queen, you'd deserve her more than most," he said, savagely.

"My turn for a question," said Prisca, as she finished doing up her fine leather trews, "What were you and Streth doing here?"

"Hiding from a proddy Green whose Rider I dislike as well as not being inclined to that sexual preference," said St'adar. "Normally I'd leave Streth to it, and lock myself away with a nice girl, but some people crow if your dragon flies theirs."

"Enough said," said Prisca. "I can imagine; I've heard some Green Riders can be a trifle histrionic and bitchy."

"And we don't generally talk about it out of the Weyr either," said St'adar, warningly.

She nodded, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Come find me in a few weeks, St'adar," she said.

oOoOo

Valys was inclined to scold when Prisca got back, for being gone so long.

"I'm sorry, Valys," said Prisca. "It was so beautiful, I lay down on the soft ground, and before I knew where I was, the time had gone."

"You went to sleep in the sunshine? Well, well, I suppose we've all done that," said Valys, indulgently. "Go and bath, my dear; you look as though you've had green firelizards nesting in your hair and clothing while you slept!"

"I expect she's been sleeping her way through all the apprentices," said Siresha, nastily.

"Oh sorry to disappoint you Siresha, what really happened was that I went for a walk and this absolutely gorgeous dragonrider turned up and the afternoon passed in a haze of passion," said Prisca, who was well enough versed in how to hint at affaires she had NOT had to make the telling of the truth sound utterly implausible.

Siresha sniffed.

"You should be so lucky," she said, rudely.

Prisca grinned. She was in a very good mood indeed and could even feel tolerant towards Siresha.

oOoOo

It has to be said that Prisca lay awake for a long time that night, reliving the afternoon. St'adar was somewhere in his late thirties, at a guess, by no means handsome, and not her usual choice at all. Still, he had said she was not his usual choice either… and yet there had been instant attraction between them that had survived conversation. Prisca considered hard.

Her task laid upon her by T'lana was to Impress a Queen; and she could not abrogate that just because she had fallen hard for the Blue Rider. Of course, if she went to Impress a Queen, and instead Impressed a Green, the problem would be solved in a way, and she would still be in the Weyr and able to make herself indispensable to Bedella. It would not be as easy, but it was possible.

If she DID Impress a Queen?

Well, there was nothing to stop her weyring with St'adar when her Queen was not involved. Dragonlust was supposed to be fun, no matter who flew you; and that this was not always the person of choice to weyr with was understood. He and she might have gone their separate ways in the three turns it took for a Queen to mature in any case; and if they had not, well, he was doubtless weyrbred and Prisca was sensible about such things.

The greater problem would be in the situation of a Queenrider – and Prisca reminded herself that the chance of that was not a given – weyring with someone perceived as relatively lowly, in the strictly hierarchical atmosphere of a traditionalist Weyr, full of formality and what Prisca described to herself as well plugged fork juice. Well, discretion would have to be called for until she was an established member of the Weyr.

Nobody, least of all T'lana, ever said this was going to be easy.

Well with a gorgeous lover like St'adar, she wasn't likely to be bored at all!

oOoOo

Routine returned to Brightwater Hold, and Prisca tried not to think about the eggs maturing in the body of the second Telgar Queen. She did calculate on her fingers when the clutch should be due to be laid, however.

When a little gold firelizard burst out from _between_ peeping self importantly, Prisca recognised her as Merry, T'lana's firelizard, and held out her arm for the little creature to land, trying not to wince as claws held her arm firmly. Merry was trained to be gentle on people without protective clothing, but even so she had unintentionally sharp claws. The little creature extended her neck to permit Prisca to undo the letter attached.

"Well! Who do you know who gets a queen firelizard?" said Siresha in angry envy.

Ketalla giggled.

"Maybe she really did meet a handsome dragonrider," she said.

"Prisca, as your temporary guardian, I should really see any letter, if it's from a man," said Valys, looking anxious.

"It isn't; this is Merry, who looks to a girlfriend of mine, it'll be gossip from the Reaches, I expect," said Prisca.

"You promise faithfully it's not from a man?" asked Valys.

Prisca looked up at her.

"It's not from a man, or about a man," she said. She had unrolled the note and scanned it quickly. It was short and to the point in T'lana's firm boyish hand.

"_14+Q, T"_ it said. Fourteen eggs, plus a Queen. Clear enough to Prisca but obscure for anyone else.

She tossed it to Valys.

"It refers to a bet my friend made with me before I left – she won, and I owe her some drudging duties which I bet her," said Prisca. It was not far off the truth. Valys looked at the note; it was not complex enough to be any kind of assignation, and she nodded. Besides, Prisca had shown herself to be a steady girl who worked hard enough and did not waste time flirting. Which description would have had the Weyrwomen of High Reaches laughing at the changes in Prisca!

Only fifteen eggs! Prisca was shocked, the Oldtimer Queens of Telgar REALLY needed new blood. And it was an Oldtimer type Queen egg too… really the little Queen could do with a Bronze from Benden stock for her own mate, if there was truly to be a second Pass.

Prisca had no business knowing about the possibility of a second Pass but she managed to extract more from J'nara than that gentle girl realised; and J'nara's weyrmate M'gol was one of H'llon's intimates and was inclined to pick up quite a lot. The reason for keeping a second Pass secret was, of course, to avoid frightening the general populace before it was necessary; however, Prisca did not frighten easily, and saw the fact merely as a balance for the Long Interval, and something to be endured. But it was worrying that Telgar would not be ready for it – and indeed, with only two Queens and such low numbers of eggs, Telgar could scarcely hope to keep up the standard of covering Threadfall even of the current pass. They might not be as stretched as Benden had been for the first Falls, before the other Weyrs came forward in time, but they would be stretched. And R'mart and Bedella would not ask for help, especially from the efficient High Reaches Weyr, having dismissed them as nothing but a bunch of cranks and cripples. Prisca recalled the rapidly forbidden skipping rhyme the children of High Reaches had used, '_R'mart, R'mart is a silly old fart, there's no doubt, if you miss the loop you're out!'. _Pilgra had taken a dim view of the rhyme as no Weyrleader should be publicly disrespected. Even if R'mart and Bedella did not stop their people disrespecting the leadership of High Reaches. She could understand better than many how pride might stop someone for asking for help, especially if that called for eating one's words after making a public stand; but for oneself! R'mart was responsible for a whole Weyr, and surely anyone would swallow pride for dependents!

Prisca's thoughts on this matter reflected perhaps the quiet influence of her father in her upbringing that had laid a groundwork long before her mother's ideas had left her wasting her opportunities in the High Reaches. As indeed did Prisca's acceptance that she had wasted her chances, and therefore lost the opportunity to be part of the camaraderie that typified the Riders at High Reaches Weyr. And the chance to be a dragonrider was again offered to her, and an opportunity to atone for having cause T'lana, L'rilly and Pilgra trouble by trying to use the lessons she had learned to move towards a similar camaraderie one day in Telgar Weyr. Nobody would turn a hair at a Blue Rider with a Queen Rider at the Reaches – other than to commiserate that they could not be together for the best ride of their lives.

And she was still counting a Queen before she was hatched – but T'lana expected it of her, which rather went beyond the expectations of her mother when she had first gone to High Reaches Weyr. Prisca laughed to herself; she had never thought that she would end up dancing willingly to the piping of the mercurial little Weyrwoman.

She had but to wait now; and to hope that St'adar had not changed his mind in the meantime.

oOoOo

The Blue dragon dropped out of the sky and landed in the courtyard with a neat backwing. Prisca sent thoughts of admiration; it was well done, as well done as anything she had seen the more flamboyant Riders of the Reaches perform. It was Streth, and she laughed to herself that she identified the dragon first.

"_My Rider says, how typical,"_ said Streth, laconically. _"He is willing for me to convey the remark to you,"_ he added.

"_**Please tell him that I appreciate his amusement,"**_Prisca thought hard back.

Then St'adar was coming down off Streth's back, and striding towards the knot of girls who had been chatting after their morning workout. He looked straight at Prisca without batting an eyelid or any sign of recognition; but his eyes smouldered.

"I need to speak to the Holder here," he said, "I am on Search, and there is a source of power. More than one, actually," he added thoughtfully, "but one who should definitely be in a Weyr."

His almost imperceptible glance at Prisca made that comment double edged; and Prisca felt her belly stir!

Camys stepped forward.

"My father is the Holder here, and I can also introduce you to the Master of the Harper Hall, if you wish, Blue Rider," she said, politely enough, but with a definite undercurrent of resentment. "You are welcome, of course. I would remind you, however, that the Charter gives all the autonomy over themselves; and any have the right to accept or decline an invitation to the Weyr."

St'adar stared; then laughed.

"Oh perfectly true, shortstuff," he said, "but very few people ever do decline the honour of going on Search."

Camys inclined her head.

"So long as it is understood and no undue pressure is brought to bear, sir," she said.

"They breed them feisty here," said St'adar. "Lead on, then; I am in your hands."

Camys gave him an old fashioned look, but led.

"Good job he's a reasonable type," said Ketalla, "half the stuck-up sons of whers would have blistered Camys for standing up for her rights and those of others. Arrogant turds!"

Prisca did not mention that if St'adar could not hear that comment, Streth certainly could, and would likely relay it. Having the unvarnished opinion of those outside the Weyr might work on the Blue Rider and make him amenable as an ally as well as a lover.

She shrugged and went with Ketalla to bathe and change.

A drudge brought the message that the three remaining girls were to eat in the Refectory for breakfast; they would sit at the table at the head of the other tables which was used by the Holder on feast days and Gathers to be a part of his people; and the Blue Rider would join them. And when they came to the table, St'adar pointed at Prisca.

"The other who has enough potential to ride a Queen is too young; your daughter," he said. "Perhaps in the future…"

"If, and only if, she wishes it," said Camtar, equably. "Prisca, the dragonman is here on Search for a Queen egg. Is it your wish to accept his invitation?"

"It is," said Prisca. "Will I be allowed time to pack?"

"Yes," said Camtar firmly.

"I will check the Harper Hall after the meal," said St'adar. "There may be boys suitable for other eggs; I would not wish to deprive them of the chance because of the amount of… noise… the power of a potential Queenrider makes."

"Quite so," said Camtar.

oOoOo

The only boy St'adar judged suitable politely declined; he was expecting to be made Journeyman soon, and to him that outweighed flying a dragon. St'adar might not have understood what was to him an incomprehensible choice; but he did not press the matter.

And so Prisca was soon mounting behind him onto Streth, careful to climb with consideration for the dragon as she had been taught.

"BORN to be in a Weyr," grunted St'adar; and then they were airborn with that belly-lurching launch, and Prisca, her belly disturbed by more than the takeoff, mixing lust and nerves both, clung to St'adar as they went _Between._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Streth emerged from _between_ just above the tarn, by the meadow where St'adar and Prisca had first met.

"I thought you were taking me to the Weyr?" said Prisca.

"I am. I thought you and I had something to take care of on the way," said St'adar.

Prisca chuckled.

"Our last moments of privacy for a while as I'll have precious few in a weyrling barracks," she said.

"What do you know of weyrling barracks?" he asked, sharply. "Anyway, Queen candidates have their own quarters, very little privacy, but some."

"I stood for a Green at High Reaches," said Prisca. "I'll tell you the whole story, but for fardles' sake get your kit off, St'adar, I'm hungry for you!"

"Shards! Well, right now I don't care about the whole story," said St'adar, savagely.

The sun rose to its Zenith as they lay together in the meadow, loving and laughing, before St'adar said, reluctantly,

"We should make a move."

Prisca nodded, washing quickly in a mountain stream and squealing at its icy water before dressing.

He laughed.

"Well, you know how to shift!"

"I learned THAT as a candidate," said Prisca. "I'll be glad to get back to a Weyr; I miss being around dragons."

"Wonder why you never Impressed?" he said.

She shrugged.

"My attitude was poor; I hadn't grown up enough," she said, simply. "And there were much better girls than me. Once I recognised that, I was able to finish growing."

"That's maturity," he said, touching her face. "Well, they've lumbered me with being Weyrlingmaster to the girls, on the principle that I shouldn't have any of them trying to get into my furs."

"Bit late in our case, I'd say!" laughed Prisca.

He shrugged, laconically.

"It might protect me from some of them, anyway. And I don't want to be protected from you," he added, grinning. "I think I have to be hard on you though."

"I LIKE hard," said Prisca.

He slapped her rump.

"You know what I mean – shards, I'm blushing, I haven't blushed since Streth was a hatchling!" he added. Prisca blushed too.

"I do know what you mean, St'adar," she said, "Or rather, Yes, Blue Rider. I can do formal and discreet. R'gar of High Reaches was tough on T'lana too."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You mean Bronze Rider R'gar and Queenrider T'lana – I can't get my head round how they contract!" he added.

She sighed.

"Yes, I MUST remember to be formal, even about people I know well enough not to be expected to tag on honourifics," she said.

"Are they truly so informal at High Reaches?" he asked.

"Yes; and it's because they're a team and don't play Rank that they're so efficient," said Prisca. "And if Telgar can't learn from that, if there's only fifteen eggs every turn and a half then the Weyr will crumble."

"I've been saying as much for turns," growled St'adar, "and it's more like fifteen eggs every three turns - the Queens don't rise often. We're dying out, all the other Weyrs laugh at us, and we're going to end up being laughed at by the Common folk too."

"That's why T'lana asked me to go to a place where I might be Searched from," said Prisca.

His face darkened.

"You mean you've been playing me for a fool?" he asked, angrily.

"I wasn't expecting to meet and fall like a rock from the Fire Heights for someone, you know," said Prisca. "Think about it, my dear idiot, if I was scheming, I'd have set up a Bronze Rider – to give me a better chance at Impression because being popular with the Bronze Riders can influence the tiny Queen. I know that much. If I Impress the Queen, I'll have to live with not sharing dragonlust with you. It might be that I Impress a Green, which will send Telgar into a flat spin, but I can hardly be slung out when it's accepted in Benden. And I can still try to work towards saving Telgar from itself."

He stared at her.

"You are thinking in those terms? After all R'mart has said about T'bor and High Reaches?"

"Dragonfolk should stick together," said Prisca. "Differences only damage the confidence of the ordinary people and that means they won't pull their weight and keep their part of the bargain. Thread is the enemy, not each other. I've been thinking a lot about this while studying and a lot has been falling into place. At first I accepted T'lana's suggestion to be around dragons again, to have a chance at Impression, and – I'll be honest – as a bit of a lark. It's not a lark, though, it's deadly serious. If Telgar can't change, it will destroy itself and that would be pretty awful – even with enough dragons from other Weyrs to set it up again. It happened with T'kul in the High Reaches and that was bad enough."

"Well, you've thought it through," said St'adar, calming down, "and I shouldn't be angry to hear a chit of a girl telling me what I've been thinking for many a turn. I'm a bit shocked though. What are you hoping to achieve?"

"I don't quite know," confessed Prisca. "But if I can quietly take over the administrative duties – which I'm quite capable of doing – that might help at least with relations between Weyr and Hold, as regards such things as administrating tithing, sorting out any minor disputes and so on. And perhaps I might manage to persuade Weyrwoman Bedella to retire her position and go to Southern for a well-earned rest; which rather opens the way to a new Weyrleader, doesn't it?"

He frowned.

"Palla's weyrmate is J'fery, he's sound enough. It might work, but the numbers!"

"Perhaps a new Weyrleader might be open to transferring people from other Weyrs," said Prisca.

"Hmm, a lot of perhaps and supposition in your planning," said St'adar.

"Be fair; I haven't been there to assess the situation," said Prisca. "I have the advantage of having met you, to talk to, to see what would work and what wouldn't – you will be an ally to turn it around as well as a lover, won't you?" she asked.

"I'd love to," he said, almost viciously. "But it's not just R'mart and Bedella. There's a lot of hidebound Riders – my half brother St'mon for one!"

She gasped.

"The Brown Rider who sired T'mon and was so cruel?" she said.

He nodded.

"He's given the honourific contraction at High Reaches then?" he asked.

Prisca nodded eagerly.

"He's famous for all the lives he's saved; Denth can get into ravines a full size dragon cannot. He saved the life of I'linne, before she came to the Weyr, and she's one of the Weyr Harpers. I suppose it typifies the attitude of Telgar that anything out of the ordinary is rejected, rather than being embraced and strengths sought. That's why their cranks and cripples work."

"That answers a lot," said St'adar. "If you had said 'our' cranks and cripples, I'd have taken you straight to High Reaches and left you with a piece of my mind – and a big part of my soul – with Weyrwoman T'lana. But you're leaving them behind to devote yourself to us."

"I never was part of High Reaches; if I had been, I'd be a Green Rider by now and blissfully unaware of politics," said Prisca. "I wasted my chances there. I'm not going to waste this chance now for both happiness and something I can do that can make a difference."

"All right," he said, "I'll help you. Don't let Bedella or R'mart or my brother catch you doing anything clandestine – at least, not unless you have a Queen to back you up. I suggest you stay relatively quiet and watch and learn for the three weeks. Then? You'll either be too tired for a while to care if the Weyr is being run by Faranth herself or a Llama, until your dragon stops growing so fast, or you'll be a supernumerary who will have to watch her step around Riders. And Faranth help you in that case if you ARE found out, for I shan't be able to."

She nodded, soberly.

"Well, we'd better get on with it, hadn't we?" she said.

He nodded, and wordlessly they mounted Streth; and after a transition directly from takeoff to _between_ they were emerging above the bowl of Telgar Weyr; and the rest of Prisca's life was about to begin.

oOoOo

The Weyrwoman looked over Prisca as she dismounted from behind St'adar.

"Not your normal type, St'adar," she said. "Musical, too?" she added, with more enthusiasm as Prisca lifted down her lap harp.

"No, Weyrwoman, not my usual type; but she has power to spare, and that's what counts, isn't it?" said St'adar. "I was looking for a potential Queenrider, not a lover; unlike some I take my duties seriously."

"You are verging on the insolent, Blue Rider," said Bedella, "but you do take your duties seriously. Do you play well, girl?"

"Adequately, Weyrwoman," said Prisca, bowing politely, "but there is always more to learn. I enjoy music, but I'm not good enough to be a Harper."

"Well, you may play for me, some time and I will see if you are good enough to amuse me from time to time," said Bedella. "Take her to the Queen candidates' quarters, St'adar. The Weyrbred candidates may as well move in as well as there are candidates coming from outside, to establish their precedence."

Prisca looked down to hide the lift of her eyebrows.

"Final precedence will be determined by the little Queen," said St'adar, "and it's for her choice we bring in outsiders. If it were a foregone conclusion, Weyrwoman, we should not need to collect others on Search."

"You really are about to go too far," said Bedella, coldly. "I personally would rather there was no Search at all; but of course we respect Benden in this directive."

St'adar bowed and hustled Prisca off.

"When beasts are inbred, they tend to produce young with birth defects, and when Holds get inbred, they do the same, and have a lot of idiots born too," said Prisca. "Doesn't she realise this?"

"We're too much the product of inbreeding ourselves," said St'adar, grimly. "Just keep a low profile. And by the way, I would have brought you in if we had not conceived a violent attraction."

"I know," said Prisca. "If you weren't a man who took his duty seriously, I don't think I'd have fallen for you so hard and wanted to share all I told you with you."

"Shards!" his voice shook. "Either you're going to get me into hotter water than my own big mouth has ever got me, or I'm going to be the happiest man on Pern."

Prisca chuckled.

"The two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive," she said.

"You don't know Bedella in a bad mood," said St'adar. "In here," and he ushered her into a cavern mouth. It twisted a couple of times to keep the wind out, and a stout door was hung for further comfort. Beyond the door was a comfortably appointed cavern, set up as a living room, with a fire in a grate and a chimney in the living rock, wooden chairs – Telgar had accepted the concessions to comfort whilst denouncing the Woodcrafters, Prisca noted with wry amusement – and a fine woven carpet in a floral pattern. Shelves and cupboards stood about the room for personal belongings, and a number of curtained doorways opened off it.

"Take your pick of sleeping chambers," said St'adar. "One of the curtains will lead to the bathing room and necessary – probably that one," he pointed opposite. "You will share a drudge between you who will bring food to this room, the table to eat at folds down from the wall there, onto a trestle at one end, and the drudge will sort that out at meal times. I'll post a schedule of lessons shortly."

"Thank you, Blue Rider Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca, firmly thinking herself out of the role of St'adar's lover into being a candidate.

"Good girl," he said. He left her abruptly to get settled in, without so much as a kiss. But then they had done their kissing and more in the meadow. It would be sweet torture to be around him and not touch him – and no easier for him, thought Prisca, who knew how to tease, and knew now when it was a bad idea to do so.

oOoOo

Prisca picked a sleeping cavern and proceeded to settle in. They were small but comfortable, and much nicer than the usual dormitories. She had been used to a room of her own at Talltrees Hold, and valued that privacy greatly, as her cousins all shared a dormitory. Prisca wondered if her cousin Cassida would claim to be entitled to Prisca's room if Prisca Impressed, and whether her father would permit this, or whether he would prefer not to let Cassida put on any more airs than she already did. Cassida's parents were Casser's dependents largely because, Casser had said, his brother Casvar did not care to turn a hand to any work. He had been known to compare Prisca to her uncle, and she flushed with shame at the memory.

As Prisca came out into the living cavern, carrying her lap harp to put on one of the shelves, two other girls walked in. The tall blonde one had a blue firelizard fussing about her, and she was holding forth that it was too bad that they should have to relocate.

"And to take orders from St'adar, who's only a Blue Rider, after all; a Bronze Rider's daughter ought not to be insulted by having a Weyrlingmaster who's one of the lower colours," she was saying.

The petite one with red-brown hair and eloquent brown eyes was rolling those eyes at her companion's back. She was mouthing – with reasonable accuracy – what was due to a Bronze Rider's daughter right before the other girl came out with each phrase.

These would be the Weyrbred girls then; and a merry looking piece like the red-brown one would surely have a better chance at a Queen than Prisca. Prisca was not sure whether to be glad or not.

The tall blonde girl bit off her next statement.

"Oh, yes, you were brought on Search," she said. "I don't know why they are bothering to Search; after all, there are two Weyrbred girls here, and as a Bronze Rider's daughter, I am the only obvious candidate."

"Perhaps they were concerned that a Bronze Rider's daughter might feel unhappy if her Golden Queen is flown by her Bronze Rider father's dragon," said Prisca, tongue firmly in cheek.

The blonde girl stared. The other laughed.

"She has a point, you know, Mendra!" she said. "It would be rather embarrassing. That might be why Bronze Rider J'fery suggested you might prefer to stand for a Queen at another Weyr."

Mendra tossed her head.

"M'kor would just take Shepreth away," she said.

"Not hardly, if anything happened to both Solth and Talmanth," said the other girl, her tone plainly displaying that this enormity was not one she truly considered seriously, and was needling the other girl with a hypothetical situation. "He wouldn't care if he had the chance to be Weyrleader."

"That's my father you're talking about, and in front of a stranger!" said Mendra. The other shrugged.

"She'll pick up what's what in the Weyr soon enough," she said. "My name's Gwesara; my grandmother is the Headwoman which counts for nothing next to the daughter of a Bronze Rider, but the Bronze Riders wouldn't fly without the lower cavern staff to feed and clothe them."

This was plainly a long held bone of contention between the girls. Prisca had no intention of pandering to the ego of the Bronze Rider's daughter. Besides, getting on the good side of Krysara was something that she had decided was tactically sound, even if she had not liked the look of Gwesara, which she did.

"My name's Prisca; and I'm happy to volunteer for administrative duties if your grandmother can use me," Prisca said. "I was training to be available to be my father's Headwoman when I was searched. Our own Headwoman is elderly," which was true enough, and Prisca would certainly not have minded taking over the running of the Hold, even if she might have preferred the traditionally male role as Steward. "I had met nobody I wished to marry, so it seemed like a useful way to spend my time."

"Shards, a Holderwench who's practical?" said Gwesara. "Lay me down and fan me with dragon wings!"

Prisca laughed.

"I also do acrobatics to keep fit; I like to keep my figure," she said.

"WELL then!" said Gwesara, "it looks as though you and I might be able to be friends; which is quite a relief. After all, neither of us reaches the mighty stature of the daughter of a Bronze Rider."

"I am glad you realise that," said Mendra.

Gwesara and Prisca caught each other's eye and fought not to explode in laughter at Mendra's total failure to recognise the irony.

"Oh I think we'll probably find that all candidates are the lowest of the low, though you Weyrbred girls have the advantage of knowledge gleaned from being around dragons all your lives," said Prisca. "Blue Rider St'adar seems quite stern."

"He is," said Gwesara, "and his scars make him look sterner; though it's just bad luck of course. Plenty of people take score, you mustn't mind it. His older brother is Brown Rider St'mon who is REALLY stern!"

"I suspect we won't have much to do with the Riders, though," said Prisca. "We'll be too busy studying to make sure we know enough in the eventuality any one of the candidates should happen to Impress."

"Your head's screwed on pretty well," said Gwesara, in approval. "Well, I suppose we settle in and wait to see how many pretty idiots are brought in because it wasn't their power that stirred the Searchers so much as how well they thought they might wriggle, and how many come in who might actually be competition to the almighty daughter of a Bronze Rider."

"I'll tell M'kor you have been mocking him!" said Mendra.

"My dear Mendra, I wouldn't dream of mocking a Bronze Rider," said Gwesara, "It's you I'm mocking. He's earned respect by fighting thread. You can't claim respect merely for being the result of a squirt from your august parent's tool when your mother happened to be receptive. If you Impress, you'll be worthy of respect, but if I was a baby Queen, I'd run away from someone whose face can curdle eggs when she pulls ones like that."

Mendra ground her teeth and stalked into one of the other sleeping caverns. Gwesara laughed.

"Where are you? Oh, then I'll roost next to you, if that's all right by you!" she said.

Prisca grinned and indicated that it was all right with her!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Should we make ourselves available to meet any new candidates brought in?" asked Prisca, when Gwesara had stowed her kit.

"Might show willing," said Gwesara. "I'll introduce you to Krysara first, though, and tell her you're a willing pair of hands. If you can do the accounts for her, I reckon she'll love you forever, she hates it."

Prisca laughed.

"I don't find it challenging," she said. "Working out the comparative value of different timbers turn by turn is a challenge, but totting up the in and the out is no problem. Does she use double entry?"

"I have no idea," said Gwesara, "I work in the laundry; I make lavender water and soap and various lyes. Soapmaking might be reckoned new by the Woodcraftes but it's been in my family for generations. By the way, don't talk about timber anywhere near the Weyrleader – or any senior Riders, really – because they resent Benden allowing all that timber in Lemos. Is that where you're from?"

Prisca shook her head.

"I'm from Tillek, and we walk sweep at trailing edge to make sure there's nothing the dragons miss," she said. "It's probably not necessary with such a good coverage, but it's a courtesy to extend to Dragonkind who take the greater risks."

Gwesara whistled.

"That's an attitude I wouldn't have expected to find in the High Reaches; I heard all the Holderfolk were pretty self sufficient there and didn't respect dragonkind."

"We are self sufficient, and can afford to be so because of the excellent cover dragons give," said Prisca. "We support and respect the Weyr to the utmost of our ability; and I don't think our Hold is in any way unusual. If you were told that, you were told wrong," she added.

"No offence meant," said Gwesara, hastily.

"None taken," said Prisca.

oOoOo

Krysara was a spare, straight woman with iron grey hair, who listened to Gwesara's introduction of Prisca with wary, cynical interest.

"And you can keep books?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am, and double entry for easier checking too," said Prisca.

"That's not so common a skill," said Krysara. "I thought it had been forgotten in this Time."

"Harpers kept it alive, ma'am, but not all Holders and Stewards have done so," said Prisca. "I am one who has been fortunate to have Harper training to make sure it was passed on. And I can see how keeping a day book and pages for different categories of purchases and expenses may have been abandoned as a result of lack of writing materials, even allowing for keeping a day book on a slate and transferring it and then wiping it. And of course that does defeat the object of keeping a day book, because you can't check through it to cross-reference for mistakes. Having plenty of paper available is a great help."

"Hmm, well, maybe the Harpers have plenty of paper, but we don't have much here," said the Weyrheadwoman.

"I – I might be able to arrange to get some," said Prisca. "My father has good relations with the erstwhile Weyrwoodcrafter in High Reaches Weyr, who's now the Masterprinter. If I wrote to my father, he could probably arrange a sale of paper in some bulk. Only I need to be able to send a message to him; I have no firelizard."

Krysara looked thoughtful.

"Write the letter, and I'll ask one of my sons to deliver it," she said. "I won't think less of you if it doesn't happen, but if you can manage this, I'll be grateful. Oh, and Prisca… we don't need to mention this to any Riders outside of my sons. We don't want it vetoed just because Printcrafting and paper making are new skills."

Prisca nodded.

"I understand," she said. "I have some paper in my personal effects; I'll run and write that letter right now, and bring it back for you to send as you see fit."

Krysara nodded.

"Good," she said, "and while you're working under me you can call me Krysara, not ma'am."

"Thank you Krysara," said Prisca. She ran back to the Female Candidates Quarters and got out some of her precious store of paper, and quickly wrote a letter to her father, with the precious graphite pencil that had been a gift from Holder Camtar. Prisca had a shrewd suspicion that he was in T'lana's confidence, for he had wished her luck more after the manner of someone sending a journeyman out on a mission than merely a girl in his care going off to a Weyr. She was careful in her wording, in case the letter was read by Krysara or her son, and merely asked her father if he could arrange a sale of paper from Printmaster Bronze Rider H'llon through the bearer of the letter. If Krysara's son was sufficiently forward looking to be ready to deceive the Weyrleaders over arranging modern conveniences, it would probably do him no harm to meet with the dynamic H'llon anyway.

Krysara took the note with a nod of thanks and passed it to a laconic looking Bronze Rider. She raised her eyebrows at the use of a Bronze Rider as a message boy. He looked amused.

Well, it might be as well to be on good terms with a potentially flexible Bronze Rider, and she smiled at him.

"I think you may like Bronze Rider H'llon, Bronze Rider," she said. "He has personally inspected my father's stands of timber, and he's fairly approachable. You might get him to explain about his calculations regarding a second Pass; I eavesdropped on a conversation I was not supposed to hear," she added.

He gave her a sharp look.

"Yes, I believe I might ask him about that; I too have heard a conversation I wasn't meant to overhear. It is Bronze Rider H'llon's calculation?"

"Yes, sir," said Prisca.

He nodded.

"My thanks," he said, and taking the note was gone.

"K'stol is a good boy," said Krysara. K'stol was about St'adar's age, so Prisca hid a smile at him being called a boy. It was encouraging to know that there were Riders, even Bronze Riders, who were not as hidebound as the Weyrleaders. It would be as well to find out how well St'adar got on with K'stol, and any other sons of Krysara. A cadre of potential allies was worth cultivating. And if she did Impress, it would be as well to know that were potential mates for the Queen who were more reasonable, even if K'stol did not attract her as a man. Under dragonlust it would scarcely matter, and if they had cordial relations, that would count for a better relationship than any transient romantic attachment.

She looked over the accounts with Krysara, and asked some pertinent questions with regards to the goods that were tithed in kind, and those that were tithed in marks. Krysara answered her patiently and with growing joy that she had a trainee who understood managing a large concern like a Weyr on a visceral level. Prisca was a fast learner, and had discovered an instinct for organisation.

oOoOo

Gwesara might not be interested in the accounts, but she was interested in how well her new friend got on with her grandmother, and hung about surreptitiously observing. She knew better than to let her grandmother notice her, and even more not to admit to having nothing better to do, as Krysara would be quick to find a task that was probably messy and unpleasant. This she told Prisca, when Krysara dismissed the girl after satisfying herself that she really did know what she was talking about, and Gwesara detached herself from a convenient cranny to leave the lower caverns with Prisca.

They were hanging about the Bowl still when a Blue dragon landed with a passenger. As the passenger was fairly apparently a girl, they drifted over by common consent to be nosy.

"Besides," said Gwesara, "There's nothing wrong with establishing the authority of being already in residence to make sure of not being treated to a burst of arrogance by some wretched spoilt brat."

"Oh, like a Bronze Rider's precious daughter?" said Prisca, innocently.

Gwesara laughed and laughed.

"Oh very nice!" she said.

They were still chuckling as they approached the pretty honey blonde girl, who gave them a straight and suspicious look.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked.

"No, just at a stray thought, engendered in a rather convoluted way by the arrival of another candidate and picking up a train of conversation started earlier," said Prisca.

"You had to be there to appreciate it," said Gwesara. "No offence meant, the laughter was incidental to your arrival. You, as such, that is, rather than candidates in general.. I'm talking myself into a hole."

"You are, rather," said the newcomer, "but if it's not personal I'll not take offence. I'm curious though."

"We were discussing spoilt brats and bitching about one we mutually know," said Prisca.

"Oh, enough said," said the new girl. "My name's Keilla; seabred and proud of it. Is that the spoilt brat in question?" she nodded to Mendra, who was observing the arrival with a sneer.

"You might say so; I couldn't possibly comment," said Prisca. "Better to make up your own mind!"

"Well, we seabred don't let anyone push us about," said Keilla, pugnaciously. "Where do I go?"

"This way," said Gwesara, leading her to their quarters. Keilla looked around appreciatively.

"Single sleeping chambers? Awesome!" she said.

"Oh my, are you only used to communal living? I hope you are used to behaving in a civilised fashion," drawled Mendra.

"Mendra and I have been in a dormitory with other weyrbred girls until recently," said Gwesara. "Potential Queenriders get more courtesy than mere girls however."

"And a lot of seaholds can be cramped," said Prisca, "or so I've heard, because of the limited safe bits of cliff for building in with proximity to the sea."

"That's right," said Keilla. "Don't polish your weyrbred knots so vigorously, sweetheart, because you need us from outside to help your sickly and inbred bloodlines."

Mendra slapped her. Keilla slapped Mendra back, and her work-hardened hand was harder. Prisca grabbed both of them.

"And how proud a baby Queen would be of candidates unable to act as though they were older than babes not yet in a Harper's care," she said with sarcasm dripping from her tone. "The comment was a little insensitive, Keilla; Mendra, you had no right to slap her."

"What makes you think you have the right to order us about?" demanded Mendra.

Prisca smiled sweetly.

"It's the duty of any adult to correct the bad behaviour of children," she said. "And I recognise that you are feeling sensitive, Mendra, because of a remark which I don't know enough to know how true it might be that Gwesara made earlier regarding the ambitions of some Bronze Riders, and I hope she was exaggerating. If she was, then you can laugh it off; if she was not, then you might want to consider that the support of other girls might be important."

Mendra slapped Prisca. That is to say, she aimed a slap at Prisca, who effortlessly swayed out of the way, her acrobatic skill giving her perfect balance and control. As a result of this, Mendra stumbled and almost fell.

"So much for gracious acceptance of a peace gesture and offer of support," said Prisca. "Well, I've satisfied my better self in making a peace overture, so now I can ignore you with a clear conscience."

Mendra glowered.

"Go on – tell on us," said Gwesara. "Your father can't interfere with the candidates – you may not think much of St'adar as choice of Weyrlingmaster for us, but Blue Rider or not, he stands as the Weyrleader's choice, and therefore as the voice of the Weyrleader, and M'kor can't argue with that. And when you DON'T Impress a Golden Queen, you still have to be dependent on me for your laundry being done quickly enough to please you, and properly aired, and if you want the scented soap that we're not allowed to buy from the woodcrafters, you need me to make it for you. Just don't put on airs, Mendra, and we'll all get on perfectly well. I personally think you owe Prisca an apology as she actually went out of her way to be rather decent to you after I wound you up without thinking through how awful what I said really was. And I apologise for that – not that I don't believe it might happen, but for being pretty blasé about suggesting it."

"Go to the Red Star," said Mendra. Her little firelizard, which was already agitated, vanished with a scared squawk.

Prisca looked at Gwesara; and both shrugged eloquently.

"What did you say earlier?" asked Keilla.

"Keilla, if both of us thought it inappropriate to bring the matter up, don't you think it rather tactless to ask that?" said Prisca.

Keilla frowned.

"Well if you were all weyrbred, I'd accept that better, but you're wearing the knots of direct line, minor Hold," she said.

Prisca reflected, feeling rather startled, that she identified more closely with the weyrbred girls and their desire to close ranks to some extent against outsiders, because it was so easy to fit right back into Weyr life. And the new intake always were a bit like 'them' as opposed to the resident 'us' until they shook down.

"But Prisca and I are friends, so it makes a difference," said Gwesara, filling in an explanation that would do. "She has weyr duties."

"Oh, right, I see," said Keilla, who was plainly assuming that Prisca had been at the Weyr for some time! "sorry, I'm sure!"

"Oh tact and the seabred are notoriously poles apart," said Prisca, smiling to take any sting from the words.

"We call a spade a spade," said Keilla.

Prisca suspected that she might be less tactful even than Y'lara, who at least had the sensitivity to recognise when a subject was being hedged around, even if she did her utmost to find out!

oOoOo

By tacit consent, Gwesara and Prisca wandered back out into the bowl, leaving Keilla to adjust.

"You can't think how nice it is to have a friend," said Gwesara, "though I wonder if it will last through the rivalry of wanting to Impress a Queen; they say Queen candidates can't be friends but it's so lonely here, with only Mendra near me in age and a couple of girls who are frankly not quite up to the standard of green firelizards in the brains department."

"What are you talking about, not being able to be friends?" said Prisca, in astonishment. "Why in High Reaches Weyr, many of the girls become very close! I was an idiot," she added, as Gwesara stared at her, "I squandered an opportunity because I was spoilt, and lazy, and though I wasn't thrown out, they were glad enough to let me go."

"You?" said Gwesara.

Prisca laughed, a touch of bitterness in it.

"Oh yes, me – and it was going home that made me realise what I'd lost. Being around dragons was… the best. You don't even know what it's like not being around dragons, and if you are the one to Impress, then I'll be glad to have my feet under the table with your grandmother for the chance to be around dragons again, even if there's a lot more hierarchy practised here."

"I suppose the girls at the High Reaches have the chance to Impress a Green if they don't rate a Gold," said Gwesara, with longing.

"And there is nothing to stop either of us Impressing a Green here if we project willing thoughts in the Hatching Cavern" said Prisca, firmly, "Especially if we make a pact right now to support each other whether we Impress or not, or what colour."

Gwesara stared at her.

"Is it possible?" she gasped.

"Mirrim Impressed from the tiers in Benden as the first female Green Rider," said Prisca, "well, unless you count T'lana who has a sport Queen, who looked green at hatching but lays perfectly normal eggs."

"I don't know the story," said Gwesara.

Prisca proceeded to entertain her with tales of T'lana and others, and the High Reaches first acknowledged female Green Rider, Y'lara, and how there had been vindication of the decision in an inscription unearthed from a much earlier Pass. Having the Harper training, however brief, enabled her to hold Gwesara enthralled, and to slip in much about how well the High Reaches system worked because of the teamwork there.

"I wish I'd been born there," said Gwesara, "You also make it sound as though their Headwoman is counted – my grandmother would be drooling with envy to be in the same position as this Keerana. I can't see Krysara being allowed to tick off candidates! Let alone being teased and joked with by Bedella!"

"I think it's probably against some rule to suggest that Bedella doesn't know how to joke," said Prisca. "But Gwesara! There's nothing to stop us younger ones working towards it – your uncle K'stol seems pretty open to ideas."

"He's great, a bit distant, but very kind," said Gwesara. "If I'd been his daughter instead of a daughter of his sister, I wouldn't feel so defensive around Mendra. She doesn't let me forget that niece is not like daughter, and that my grandmother failed at the egg Bedella Impressed. My father's Weyrwoodcrafter which is a pretty despised position. Woodcrafters are held as necessary evils by a lot of the more hidebound ones, you know, and your father having a Timberhold won't stand you in good standing."

"Well, about time things changed, then," said Prisca, briskly. "The Oldtimers who have fought Thread in two Passes are pretty much washed up and ready to retire, I should think; and as they gradually take their aching bones to Southern for a well-deserved rest, things will change perforce. We need to get at the boys who Impress."

"Which will be easier if one of us has a dragon ourselves," said Gwesara. "I can sneak us in to have a look at the other eggs, you know, if you're up for it. I'll be beaten, if we're caught, but I'm afraid you might be thrown out."

"I'm up for it," said Prisca.

Shared risk would also draw them closer together; it was perhaps not the best way to set about subverting the Weyr to risk being caught doing something a naughty child might do, but if she was thrown out, Gwesara had a good chance of Impressing the Queen, which would put in place a Queenrider with whom the Reaches Queenriders could work. And would increase the chance, perhaps, of either of them Impressing a Green dragon to assuage disappointment. And if both of them did so, that would also work out well enough. If anyone else arrived who was better suited.

"We need to wait for Talmanth to be off hunting," said Gwesara, "which she does every third day at dawn as a rule."

"Better yet," said Prisca. "If caught abroad, and not actually in the hatching cavern, we can claim I was going to train you in acrobatics; which St'adar knows about and can corroborate. He saw me first when I was working out. You'll enjoy it anyway, I think," she added.

"Like the Holdless tumblers? Some of them are very entertaining, and I'd love to learn some of that!" said Gwesara. "Good; we'll do it then. Not tomorrow, but the day after."

"Then we'll begin the tumbling tomorrow to establish the pattern," said Prisca. "I'll be rising for it anyway. Do we exercise in the bowl?"

"This far north? No, there's an exercise cavern for the use of Weyrlings," said Gwesara. "Don't tell me the High Reaches exercise outside in all weathers?"

"Most weathers," said Prisca. "One of the teaching halls is used if the snow is too deep though. They breed us hardy up in the Reaches; and the Weyr only compromises for illness"

They turned back on their aimless walk around the Weyr bowl as three dragons appeared to be approaching with passengers; because if they were females, they fully intended to intercept them!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Two of the passengers were boys, with whom the girls could not really interfere; the third however was a dark haired girl who was audibly complaining to the stiff featured and furious Green Rider who brought her that she had not appreciated being jolted so much, nor to being taken _Between_ without warning.

Prisca strolled over.

"Your passenger feeling her oats because she's embarrassed about peeing herself, Green Rider?" she said, cheerfully. "Makes a girl feel very vulnerable. Don't worry if you have, m'dear, it happens to many people the first time!"

"I haven't – haven't soiled myself!" squealed the girl in outrage.

"Well, quit complaining, then, and get down so we can get you settled in," said Prisca, "and don't forget to thank the Green Rider for his courtesy in bringing you and resisting the temptation to box your ears for rudeness."

The Green Rider looked at Prisca anew.

"A candidate who know the courtesies, I see," he said.

Prisca bowed.

"My father works with the Weyrwoodcrafters in the High Reaches," she said. "We have dragonmen and women visiting for timber for various projects. Etiquette and courtesy cost nothing and help smooth the wheels of society."

She was absently scratching the eyebrow ridges of the ecstatic Green dragon. The young Rider laughed.

"Pirith says you can keep that up all day," he said. "She's going to be disappointed; I want to give her a good oiling after a bath."

"She is lovely," said Prisca. "Such a pretty shade!

"Aren't you going to help me down?" demanded the new girl.

"Oh, are you crippled, then?" asked Gwesara, with spurious sympathy. Like Prisca, she had taken an instant dislike to the girl with discontent lines already starting on her face.

"Of course not, idiot! If I was crippled, I wouldn't be a candidate for a Queen dragon, would I? now stop asking stupid questions and insulting me and help me down!"

"Pirith, I sympathise with you," said Prisca.

"How dare you! I'm not going to take this insolence from some drudge!" screeched the girl.

"Fardles! Excuse me, Green Rider, WHY did you pick this one?" asked Prisca.

He grinned.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time… she has power, candidate," he said.

"I think it all went in the volume," said Prisca, dryly. She knew that however much the Weyrfolk at High Reaches might have disliked her attitude, they did not dislike her the way they did the louder and more self opinionated candidates – like the awful Lasolly!

The dark haired girl was goggling at Prisca.

"Did he just call you 'Candidate'?" she demanded.

"'He' has an honourific, candidate," said Prisca. "Get down and stop catching veetols with your mouth half open. What's your name?"

"Ideena," said the girl, sulkily. "And I can't get down without help. If you aren't drudges, where are the drudges to carry my baggage?"

Gwesara and Prisca laughed.

"Ideena, if you think you're going to be waited on hand and foot, you are very much mistaken," said Prisca briskly. "Caring for a dragon is hard work; and you only have three weeks to be made fit enough to manage it, should you be the lucky one. And the Weyrlingmaster has to work all the candidates as though each one has a chance of being the lucky one, even feeble ones like you. Green Rider, as she is so feeble, would you be able to lower her down?"

"Certainly," said the Green Rider, not troubling to hide his grins. "I think she's out of sorts because I found her brother more attractive than her; pity he wasn't interested in coming."

"Oh well, better for us, if he's too pretty he might have stolen a march on us in Impressing the Queen," laughed Prisca, who had learned to cope with the weyr acceptance of homosexuality. This youth seemed very much at home with himself or she would not have teased at all. He laughed.

"I think he was TOO ladylike," he said, taking Ideena by the wrists and lowering her with all the grace of a sack of firestone. She squealed all the way.

Bedella came over to see what then noise was about.

"Gwesara… oh yes, I remember you, St'adar brought you," she nodded to Prisca. "G'lak, trouble?"

"Not any more, Weyrwoman," said G'lak, the Green Rider. "I've delivered her to her fellow candidates. With your permission I'd like to bathe and oil Pirith."

Bedella nodded him away brusquely and regarded the complaining Ideena with dislike.

"THIS is why I dislike having Search," she said.

"Gwesara and I will try to explain some realities of life to her, Weyrwoman, so she is not a nuisance to you," said Prisca. "At least the Rider who brought her picked her on her power…"

Bedella nodded curtly.

"True," she said. "You appear to have settled in well enough I suppose."

Prisca bowed. There was not a lot that could be profitably said. She murmured a pretty thanks to Bedella without specifying what the thanks might be for.

Dismissed by the Weyrwoman with a wave of the hand, Prisca and Gwesara hustled Ideena, still whining, into the female candidate quarters. The things she was complaining about as they deposited her in a sleeping chamber were that she had no idea how to deal with her clothes and who was going to bring her chest of belongings in, and where would it fit in such poky surroundings.

Gwesara and Prisca had to go outside to laugh without being offensive. Keilla joined them.

"Is she for real?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Gwesara.

"Is that her chest? Oh MY!" said Keilla. It was a big clothes chest of leather bound with metal. "She'll never lift that on her own."

"All she has to do is ask for help," said Prisca. "But as she started off by ordering Gwesara and me about, she'd better be very polite if she does ask."

"I'll tell her," said Keilla and went back in.

"I almost want to listen to that," said Gwesara.

"Almost but I think maybe not quite," said Prisca. "Anyway, here comes someone else."

The someone else almost fell off the transporting Blue dragon, thanking him and his Rider with quick, nervous courtesy, snatching up her carisac and looking warily at the two girls.

"We don't bite," said Prisca, dryly, "though I don't guarantee the same of all the candidates."

"Oh, er, thank you!" said the girl. "Daraleen; Craftbred, My father is a Harper; he teaches at Telgar Hold."

"Oh, I see. You're used to snotty little girls then," said Prisca.

Daraleen flushed.

"Yes, and though my father didn't like the idea of me coming here, he thought it was better than having retribution fall on me when they find out it was me who paid them back for all the pinching and slapping and nastiness," she said.

"Oh, hello, Harper-trained imagination?" said Gwesara, sounding interested.

"I was pretty desperate," said Daraleen. "They had said if I was a Harper's brat I should entertain them – they made me dance and pricked my legs with bodkins to make it livelier. So I put hotroot juice in all their underlinen."

"Sounds fair to me," said Prisca.

"Well it wasn't because they were going to punish the laundry drudges and I was about to own up when the Search dragon came, and my father talked him into taking me and said he'd tell them for me. He - the Rider - said I had enough power, so here I am, and I hope my father will be all right, but I was so scared they'd make me do something that would kill me. But I couldn't let them flog the laundry drudges, could I?"

Gwesara and Prisca exchanged looks.

"You'll do," said Prisca, having picked that idiom up in the Reaches.

"Do for what?" asked Daraleen.

"It means, you're a good person," said Prisca. "You'll do just fine as a friend. Only if you want to Impress, you need to learn not to make so diffident."

"I hadn't actually thought about wanting to Impress, or not," said Daraleen. "Dragons don't scare me, but people scare me, and father says there are some scary people here, and so I don't know if I want to stay."

"I don't think you have a hope at a Queen," said Gwesara, judiciously, "Though I might be wrong! But we have a plan to view the other eggs too, and if any of us Impresses a Green, to stand by each other. Are you up for that? after all, once you're Impressed, if you hate the formality here, you can always ask to transfer to High Reaches Weyr where they're all pretty friendly – so Prisca says."

"I was a candidate there when I was too young and foolish to make the most of my opportunities," said Prisca. It seemed like another life! In truth, the idea of lying around most of the day now seemed horrifying; the exercises she did in the morning filled her not with exhaustion as exercise had done at first in the Weyr, but with exhilaration and energy.

"Oh! well if I can do that…" Daraleen was clearly thinking, hard. "I think I could face Thread, I've walked sweep. Dragons are beautiful. I wouldn't really want to be a Weyrwoman; and father said I wasn't talented enough to apprentice properly, or I could have gone to the Harper Hall. I play and sing well enough, better than an amateur, but not well enough to be more than a very mediocre Journeyman, and father said that while girls were getting established it was necessary to be better than very good. I take his point; a misfortune for me to be born at the wrong time."

"Or at the right time to make a point and start some much-needed changes here," said Prisca. "Harpers serve in more than one way, as I've heard often enough – usually accompanied by some cheeky Harper tapping his nose and grinning."

Doraleen laughed.

"Well, I've heard that too," she said. "Father is supposed to be helping with the attitudes of the Ranking children in Telgar, and I was supposed to be an example of a nicely brought up girl, but they don't care about my manners, only that I'm low born beside them and should drudge for them."

"I should like to see them under the care of the High Reaches Weyr folk," said Prisca. "No single rooms there for the girls, nor a drudge, nor privileges – we do seem to be given some respect and privileges here by the way the Riders are circumspect, is that right?" she appealed to Gwesara.

"Yes, we will be expected to do lessons in the mornings and some gentle exercises in the afternoons too," said Gwesara, "but as candidates for a Queen, any one of us might be very important in twenty days time so the Riders tread warily, in case someone later takes retribution."

"Shards!" said Prisca, in horror. "That wouldn't happen in the Reaches – anyone of a taking retribution nature would be sat on firmly by T'lana, the Weyrlingmistress, or Pilgra, the senior Weyrwoman. Or L'rilly, who interferes constructively," she added. "And Riders who were incorrect in their behaviour would pretty soon be told off by someone – probably one of the female Green Riders, they're pretty vocal – though I've never seen it happen. Anyone misbehaving, I mean. I've heard someone disappointed after a mating flight has been known to be more insistent than is proper, and female candidates are told to put a knee where it will do most good," she added.

"I DO wish I was at High Reaches," said Gwesara.

"Well, we need to make it more like that here," said Prisca, firmly. "Good, we have a cadre of three of us to stand for Greens too. I'm in two minds about inviting Keilla."

"She'd blurt it out an instant and get us into trouble," said Gwesara, "and I don't think she's awfully sensitive, she wouldn't understand."

"I fear you may be right," said Prisca. "Y'lara, also seabred, is pretty blunt, but she notices things and they say she's awfully kind if you go to her with troubles even if she's a bit brusque. I can't see Keilla being someone to go to with troubles; and Dragonriders protect and serve."

"Well that's a new one on me," said Gwesara.

"It's in the Charter," said Prisca.

"It is," agreed Daraleen. "It's why father isn't impressed by the Weyr, because they don't always follow the Charter."

"I guess I need to study it," said Gwesara.

"I can help!" said Daraleen.

Prisca had been about to offer, but something told her that if Daraleen could help her new weyrbred friend, it would do her the world of good. There was much about the strained look on Daraleen's face that spoke of ongoing bullying of a kind that had left her on the verge of mental breakdown; and the pranking of the other girls as much an expression of how close she was to snapping as any childishness. And at least an expression of pressure that was fighting back, rather than leaping off the fireheights as a weaker character might have done.

The girl was too badly bullied to be a Dragonrider if Impression were to happen immediately, but Prisca knew a few of the stories of the Green Rider girls of High Reaches Weyr and she knew that those with worse backgrounds had blossomed with encouragement and appreciation. The daughters of Meron, for example, Imbelinne and Ipominea, now I'linne and – Prisca had heard – Po'nea, who had been systematically ill treated. Daraleen had a supportive father which should help. If there were two Green Rider females, it was a start – and a support for whichever one of them, Gwesara or herself, had the Queen. Prisca had completed her growing up in realising that it did not actually matter too much which of them was a Queen Rider as long as she herself was present to bring in the new ideas from outside. And if she were a Rider of any colour that would help. Having a confederate who also Impressed a Green would be even better. So far Daraleen was the best bet.

"Why is their a trunk out there in the bowl?" asked Daraleen as they went to the cavern.

"Because Ideena is too full of herself to make do with less than a trunkful for three sevendays, and too lazy to move it herself and too discourteous to ask for help with it," said Prisca. "If she manages to ask nicely one of us will give her a hand. But not unless. Though I see a couple of drudges approaching; Gwesara, please tell me that Queen candidates are not so indulged."

"I don't know, we never had any in my recollection" said Gwesara in disgust "but it wouldn't surprise me. You wouldn't believe what some of the sons of Brown and Bronze Riders get away with when they're standing. And then," she laughed a slightly spiteful laugh, "they wonder why they don't get Bronzes themselves."

"Well, well!" said Prisca, "dragons know; and given the choice they don't like lazy toerags. Which is why I never Impressed. Do they Impress at all?"

Gwesara shrugged.

"Often there's not many more boys than eggs so yes… I think there should be more."

Prisca was shocked.

"There should be at least twice as many boys as eggs, preferably three times as many. We need to subvert as many girls as we can to give the Greens more of a choice at least, which gives the other colours more choice too."

Gwesara brightened.

"Good thought!" she said.

oOoOo

The next candidate arrived while they were in the cavern showing Daraleen to a cave. This one had golden hair and blue eyes and the knots of the Weavercraft support staff.

"Hello everyone!" she said, "My name's Trayana, my father is a Master Weaver, and isn't this exciting? I'm just so happy to be here, it's such an adventure!"

"Pleased to meet you," Prisca came forward first and introduced the others to the bubbly girl. She seemed a likely sort of girl in some respects; but seemed very young for her age. Prisca decided not to tell her about viewing eggs and caught Gwesara and Daraleen by the arm to draw them to one side to tell them why, while Trayana bubbled happily on to a bored Ideena, a sneering Mendra and a faintly amused Keilla.

"Not her," said Prisca.

"She seems to have a good attitude," frowned Gwesara, "why not? listen to her enthusing about beautiful dragons saving Pern."

"And can you imagine her remaining quiet about beautiful eggs viewed clandestinely?" asked Prisca.

"Good point, actually," conceded Gwesara.

"In a turn or two…" said Daraleen.

"And maybe we could point her in the direction of High Reaches or Igen, which I believe is also opening to female Green Riders when she doesn't Impress here for being too young for the job," said Prisca.

Gwesara nodded.

"Well, we shall keep an eye on her," she said, "and at least protect her from the others."

"Indeed!" said Daraleen, with feeling. "She does seem nice, and we don't want her spirit being destroyed by being continually carped at by those nasty ones."

Prisca reflected that a protective and crusading spirit would do wonders for Daraleen's self confidence!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

There was a knock on the door of the common room after the evening meal; and St'adar strode in. Prisca's belly flopped over.

"Ladies; your schedule for daily activity," he said. "Though the Weyrbred girls should have some idea about practical matters as regards dragon care, most of you will not; and though only one of you is going to Impress, you all need to learn in the eventuality that it is you. You also need to undertake something of a regimen of fitness; caring for a dragon is tiring, because in the first few weeks of eating and growing, you will be doing a lot of scrubbing and oiling of growing, flaking skin, as well as running about with bowls of meat for your Impressed partner. You will want to do so, because being joined telepathically, you WILL feel her hunger pangs. We do not expect our Queenriders to be as fit as other Riders, as you will not be flying in the main wing, nor will you have to carry firestone as Queens of course do not chew firestone. On the other hand you WILL have to know how to strip and clean and use a flamethrower. Anyone here already proficient in that besides Gwesara and Mendra? Prisca, good, and – I don't know your name?"

"Keilla," said Keilla. "I'm seabred so I'm not a useless object like some of the ninnies here."

"Ah, the famous seabred tact and courtesy," said St'adar, dryly. "Well, here is the list of the times I expect you to be in the teaching caverns for either lessons or exercise."

"Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca, "I believe I may have left a small bag tied to the straps of Streth in the excitement of coming here; I apologise for being a nuisance, but might I look?"

St'adar's eyes widened slightly and he frowned.

"Oh very well; you'd better come and I'll ask Streth," he said.

Streth flew down as Prisca followed him out and she leaped nimbly up onto his neck, followed by St'adar.

"He says you mount well," said St'adar; and then they were flying to his weyr.

There were no words; just a passionate kiss and a furious coupling on his bed. At length they lay together on the quilt.

"Not an excuse you can use again," said St'adar. "We'd better bathe and get you back down. Shards, Prisca! I looked at you in with that gaggle and I was hard!"

She smiled at him.

"You affect me so much," she said. "St'adar, will you back me if I can pull something unprecedented off?"

"Probably, you little minx, what are you up to?" he asked.

"Getting Gwesara to introduce those of us who might have a chance of a Green if there's not a Queen for us to the other eggs, to increase their choices," said Prisca.

"You'll be thrown out on your ear if you're caught," warned St'adar.

"I know," said Prisca, "and we're going to do it at dawn when Talmanth is hunting. I was hoping you might be around to head anyone off…"

He sighed.

"I can't refuse you anything, you know," he said, "Especially as it is for the good of the Weyr. All right. I'll do it. Who have you picked?"

"Only Gwesara and Daraleen, the Harper girl, so far, " said Prisca. "Trayana is too young for her years, Keilla has the sensitivity of a Watchwher at midday, Mendra is a bitch and Ideena is the worst kind of spoilt brat. Well, no, not the worst, but she really would expect a dragonet to wait on her hand and foot, like the cartoon Geriana drew about me. I should feel sorry for her, really, she's a shallow piece, but right now I'm looking for quality that doesn't require hard work to draw out any good points. If she has any."

"Well, we may expect more in, I suppose," said St'adar, dubiously. "Two Green Riders would be a better statement than one, though, if you can pull it off. Be careful! How are you going to explain even being abroad at that time?"

"Because I'm teaching them acrobatics – which I shall do anyway," said Prisca.

He nodded.

"Very well! Now leap up on Streth, and hope to have a story about why you don't have that small bag."

"I do. I concealed it to bring with me," said Prisca. "It's pieces of music. Easy to overlook."

He nodded.

"Thorough in one thing, thorough in all," he said. "I really think you might manage this, lovely Prisca!"

She kissed him quickly; and then Streth was taking her down to the bowl again.

oOoOo

"Careless with your possessions, aren't you?" remarked Mendra.

"Over-excited," said Prisca. "It was something I had picked up to bring as an afterthought, some new music I'd copied," and she flourished the scroll case, "as you can see, easily overlooked."

Daraleen brightened.

"New music?" she asked.

"Probably not, for you!" said Prisca. "It's some of Master Menolly's latest tunes, and some from a very talented apprentice called Meeri, Journeyman Valtar said she's bidding fair to be a new Menolly, and one of them is called 'The Firestone Bagging Song' which I thought would be appropriate for candidates."

"Hardly for QUEEN candidates," drawled Mendra.

"Perhaps it's time some of us volunteered to help out to show we appreciate what other Riders have to do," said Prisca, dryly, "after all, it's not impossible that the lucky one will one day be The Weyrwoman; and that means leading, and leading means appreciating the jobs others you give orders to have to do."

"Oh my! I hadn't thought of that, but you're right!" said Gwesara. "Mendra, think about it – if a Weyrwoman understands the difficulties and needs of the other Riders it would make for better appreciation to direct from the Queen's Wing."

Mendra looked startled. She had been ready to sneer, but suddenly she looked thoughtful.

"I suppose there's some sense in that," she said, grudgingly. "I hate bagging firestone."

Gwesara laughed.

"I've yet to find anyone who likes it," she said. "Sing this song, you Harper-trained types, and we'll see if it helps."

Prisca got out the music and passed it to Daraleen to study as she went to get her harp; Daraleen went for her gitar while sight-reading through.

"Give me a beat and I can hold it," said Keilla.

"And if I can see the words, once I hear the tune, I can follow it," said Trayana.

Daraleen propped up the music against a glow basket.

"We need to ask the Weyrwoodcrafter for a music stand," she said.

"I'll ask him," said Gwesara, "he's my father."

"Lucky you!" said Daraleen, "woodcrafters are said to be awfully clever and innovative people!"

Mendra scowled.

Prisca gave the beat to Keilla, and played the starting note on her harp, then they sang the rolling, lilting song that followed so well the motions of firestone bagging.

"I like that," said Mendra, unwillingly. "It – it sounds as if the writer actually knows a bit about it."

"Journeyman Valtar told me that Meeri is Weyrbred and one cousin is a female Green Rider and another is a Bronze Rider," said Prisca. "I actually know her female cousin slightly – she's very talented musically too, but I guess Meeri is more interested in music than dragons."

"No reason not to be interested in both," said Mendra, "Bedella loves music; she'd love to hear this. I reckon if all of us learned it, she'd be very touched if we sang it for her as a group."

"What a lovely idea, Mendra!" said Prisca, warmly. "Perhaps we could write out an invitation – if anyone has a neat hand."

"Why should we have to learn singing on top of this awful list of duties that man left?" whined Ideena.

"How about because Dragonriders are more than just passengers and can manage more than one thing?" said Prisca. "That's all right, if you feel that way we shan't include you; there isn't a singing part for 'whine in C minor' anyway."

Daraleen laughed out loud.

"_Lacrimoso ma non troppo_?" she said. It was Prisca's turn to laugh.

"What?" said Mendra.

"It's a musical direction to sing or play tearfully, but not too much; it's often used to sing songs for farewell ceremonies," said Daraleen. "It's a bit more… exaggerated… than _con duolo_, with sadness or _lamentando_, with lamenting."

Mendra also laughed snidely.

"Suitable," she said. "Ideena whines like – well, I don't know what, never known anything like it."

"You are all rotten!" said Ideena, "nobody shows me the respect I deserve!"

"If we showed you the respect you deserve, we'd kick you all round the bowl," said Mendra.

"I really can't see why you're complaining, some idiot allowed the drudges to bring your luggage in," said Prisca, briskly, "which is a courtesy beyond what I would expect to be extended to candidates, to be quite honest; I doubt any of the boys get such treatment."

"Why would we be treated like the boys? Our situation is entirely different, and a Queenrider won't have to do the same things," whined Ideena.

"Indeed?" said Prisca. "A Queenrider can still catch Threadscore, if she's unlucky; Queenriders don't carry flamethrowers just to make pretty patterns, you know, they are supposed to deal with any Thread that escapes the main Wings. And I should think in gusty winds that would mean quite a lot might come through."

"Yes, when it's gusty everyone risks score," said Mendra, soberly. "The Bronze Riders take the brunt of course, but because they have to duck _Between_ more in gusty weather, there's more that comes through. And what's more, a Queenrider has a bigger dragon to bath and oil than anyone else, so being feeble is not a good move."

Ideena spluttered.

The girls ignored her to sing the song again, and Mendra gave a quite genial nod and went out to see Bedella.

oOoOo

"Mendra," said Prisca, quietly when the girl came back, looking pleased, "Do you want to ride a dragon more than anything else?"

Mendra looked at her with yearning in her face.

"Of course I do," she said, "what sort of question is that?"

Prisca shrugged.

"Well, you might be standing because your father expected it of you, you know, the way Holdergirls often marry because it's expected, and boys follow their father into a craft. And I'd disrespect you if I didn't check."

"Oh. I see," said Mendra. "You aren't as awful as I thought you might be. My father DOES expect me to Impress, and I am afraid of letting him down, you know. But I want to ride a dragon."

"What if you Impressed a Green?" said Prisca.

Mendra stared.

"Why – it's – I don't know what anyone would say to that – it – it's not something that anyone here approves of!" she said.

"If you don't Impress the Queen, how likely is another Queen egg?" said Prisca.

"Not very likely," said Mendra. "What are you getting at?"

"Some of us," said Prisca, carefully, "are busy swearing support of each other, whichever Impresses the Queen, and are ready to reach out with our thoughts to the other eggs and will support any of us who Impressed any Green dragons."

"I see," said Mendra. "I – I don't know. I am not sure if my father would approve…"

"Wouldn't he reckon it showed you had the bravery to Impress a fighting dragon rather than a symbolic one?" said Prisca.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," said Mendra, "but a Queenrider isn't short of courage, and she has to be visible as a symbol, and be ready to lead. All right; I'll join you support group – so long as Gwesara will support me if I am the one who Impresses."

"That's the point of making the pact," said Prisca. "You're afraid that she's the better Weyrwoman than you, aren't you, and that's why you've been getting at her?"

Mendra gave her a half frightened look.

"Can you read minds like dragons can?" she demanded.

"No, but I know quite a lot about people," said Prisca. "And I thought that if you and she could just acknowledge that you both love dragons it might go a long way to being able to work with each other. And showing off how much better at bagging firestone we could be than some of the boys!" she added.

Mendra laughed ruefully.

"It might be worth doing that," she said.

"Then perhaps you'd like to join in as well with the acrobatics we're going to do in the morning?" said Prisca. "I learned acrobatics for fun and to keep fit."

Mendra looked over Prisca's trim figure.

"Multitalented, aren't you?" she said.

Prisca shrugged.

"I got over being a useless lazy object and grew up – and then put effort into catching up and more. I was about as much use as Ideena a couple of turns ago, you know. That's why I was not encouraged to stay as a candidate in another Weyr. But I love dragons."

"That's why you know so much then? Well you can't have been so lazy if you learned stuff," said Mendra.

"I wasn't allowed to slack," said Prisca, "but yes, I was lazy! But I was also nosy enough to listen and learn, and I was fascinated by the theory classes. I liked the way the exercise gave me a really good figure, so I went looking for some exercise that interested me enough to keep the figure. Selfishness. But I missed dragons…"

"I can appreciate that," said Mendra. "I can understand why Timon wanted to break the small egg too."

"T'mon," said Prisca, sharply. "At High Reaches Weyr he is given the honorific and is given respect for the number of lives he has saved for being able to land in smaller places than a full size dragon in the Mountain Rescue; and because despite being small, he and Denth still face Fall. They fly with the Queen's Wing but even so, he had big ones to face Thread on a small dragon."

Mendra flushed.

"I acknowledge that," she said. "That's brave. So, you were at High Reaches? They have female Green Riders there – is that where you get the idea?"

"Yes," said Prisca. "And I've heard it said by many of the other Riders there, that their female Green Riders would be good enough to be Queenriders in most Weyrs. You were about to ask how it works, weren't you? Some of them fly with the main wings, but most of them fly in the Queen's wing as the supporting fighting dragons. It frees up the men to fly in the Fighting Wings, of course."

"That makes sense," said Mendra. "And I can see some sense in it. Some protection for female Riders, which I think is the main reason for the objections. Queenriders and their wings do face some risk, as we were telling that silly piece, Ideena, but not as much. Yes, it could work."

"And if there's more than one girl who Impresses Greens then the Weyrleaders have to take it more seriously," said Prisca.

"You actually make a lot of sense," said Mendra, grudgingly. "Very well, I'll try this acrobatic thing too, and we'll see how we go."

Prisca grinned.

"Great! I'll wake you at dawn then," she said.

Mendra groaned.

"Don't expect me to be gracious," she said.

Prisca laughed.

"Oh you may grumble, but for working for something you want, you'll do it – not need to be dragged out of your bed and thrown in the bathing pool which has happened to me!"

"You know, I think I respect you the more for being honest about being full of fork juice," said Mendra. "Any hope for Ideena?"

"I don't know," said Prisca, "but I haven't seen any evidence that she respects or likes dragons; and that was what really saved me from being a fool."

Mendra nodded.

"Well, tomorrow evening we get to sing for Bedella," she said. "And if we impress her enough, she might even be open to the idea of her own protective court of female Green Riders."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 **

Gwesara spluttered slightly on being awakened when Prisca told her that Mendra would be coming and would also be prepared to stand for a Green – until Prisca pointed out that Mendra's superior act was a means of hiding that she was afraid of disappointing her Bronze Rider father, who sounded as though he might be rather demanding.

"He is," said Gwesara. "Well she was pretty decent about the idea of volunteering to bag firestone, so I'll be lead by you and give her a chance. We used to be friends when we were too young for status to make a difference. If she's prepared to stand for a Green, I guess that means she's a decent sort really."

"Apart from Ideena – who might improve – nobody is yet too awful to be in the running for a Green; just maybe not this time," said Prisca. "Keilla has that seabred hardness, that needs to be cracked, and Trayana's just very young. If we get some Impressions, we could maybe make a case for keeping them – if they'd be prepared to stand."

"The sky would fall first," predicted Gwesara.

Mendra was, as she had predicted, rather grouchy, but came along with something akin to willingness.

As at Brightwater, Prisca went through the basics, and gave a demonstration.

"The way you mounted Streth last night was impressive too," said Mendra, laconically. "I shouldn't mind being able to do that; if we get to ride Greens any of us, being able to mount with that much, er, élan would impress the boys enough not to tease us too much."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that the boys riding Blues and Browns won't want to tease past the point that they realise that Green Riders who are females will provide more interesting mates than Green Riding lads – for the vast majority who are NOT homosexual?" said Prisca, dryly.

Mendra and Gwesara exchanged thoughtful looks.

"Well!" said Gwesara.

"Precisely – WELL!" said Mendra. "The senior Queen IS swayed by the desires of her dragons. We need to make sure THAT goes around before we get slung out – if any of us end up with Greens."

"We can hope we shall," said Daraleen. "Are there any other girls who weren't reckoned able to stand for the Queen who are Weyrbred who might join us?"

Gwesara pulled a face.

"Not who could face Thread up close and personal," she said.

"I can think of a few from Brightwater Hold where I've been studying who might, but to slide them in would be difficult," said Prisca, "unless they came as Harpers to give a concert for the Weyrleaders."

"Let's see how well the song goes down with Bedella," said Mendra. "I – I had not thought that it was right to have outsiders in, but more women for the other Riders makes a lot of sense, and too, it would make sense to have more women of the calibre to breed future generations. There aren't very many of us."

"Or very many dragons," said Prisca, "I doubt there's half as many as they fly at High Reaches, and the Weyr is bigger here too."

"Our Queens don't rise very often," said Gwesara. "Right, show us that move again?"

The practice continued. The girls went flushed and happy to wash afterwards and on to breakfast, joining Trayana and Keilla who were rising as they returned.

"Where have you been?" asked Keilla.

"Exercising," said Mendra, shortly. "We didn't think you two wanted to be woken."

"Oh what were you doing?" asked Trayana.

"Acrobatics," said Prisca.

"What fun!" bubbled Trayana, "Please will you wake us another time?"

"All right, kid," said Prisca. "We'll get you up tomorrow, about half an hour after dawn," she added as Gwesara looked horrified. Gwesara relaxed. They would view the eggs and then rouse the other two girls.

"I'd have liked to have been asked but I'm game if that includes me," said Keilla.

They might even be in for a chance at Green eggs at that, thought Prisca; but Trayana would definitely speak out of turn and she found something in Keilla that was faintly offputting, a hardness to her that Prisca could neither define nor put her finger on.

"Is Ideena up?" asked Prisca, after the acrobats had quickly bathed.

"Not hardly," said Keilla, "she's a useless piece. We decided to leave her be."

"She isn't used to the regimen," said Prisca. "We need to help her to learn. She won't thank us for it at all but we should give her a chance, and she ought to have a chance to wash quickly and eat before we have to be at lessons."

"This is going to be either funny or awful," said Mendra.

Keilla shrugged.

"Why bother? We all know she hasn't a hope," she said.

"Because you'd perhaps like someone to bother in putting you right if you were going to make a ninny of yourself somewhere where all the rules are new?" said Prisca.

"I watch and learn," said Keilla.

"How nice for you to be so observant," said Prisca. "Mendra, Gwesara, back me?"

They nodded and Prisca knocked sharply on the door to Ideena's room – a lot of wood, she reflected, for a Weyr that affected to despise woodcrafting – and went in.

"Put it by my bed," said the mound that was Ideena.

"Put what by your bed? I've come to tell you that it's well past rising time, and if you hope to bathe and eat before we start our lessons, you'd better shift," said Prisca, tartly. "I know it's hard at first so we'll help you."

A tousled head appeared, looking shocked.

"What? I thought you were the drudge with my klah and breakfast!" she said.

"Well I'm afraid you thought wrong," said Prisca. "This is a weyr, not a home for invalids. Oh, and actually, even the disabled members of High Reaches Weyr don't get those sort of concessions. You need to get up now if you want us to leave any of the breakfast the drudge has brought to the living cavern; we'll forgive you eating in a dressing gown and in a fug of bed for once, and you can bathe after, won't we girls?"

"Just once," said Mendra.

"And after your bath I'll help with your hair, if you need it, and show you how to do it for yourself," said Prisca, who had struggled without Feytha to help her with her own hair when first in the Weyr.

"What, isn't the drudge going to do my hair for me?"

"Grow up, ninny," said Gwesara, "if the drudge did everyone's hair, she'd have no time to do anything else. She cleans our rooms and makes our beds, after all!"

"Good grief, what a pampered lot!" said Prisca. "I can see that courtesy being extended to an Impressed Queenrider, who has more and better duties, but for candidates? They must think us effete and feeble!"

Mendra flushed.

"I've never had to make my own bed," she confessed. "Are you telling me they do at High Reaches?"

"I think they call it learning to accept personal autonomy," said Prisca dryly. "Anyway, Ideena, up you hop! I'm off to eat my breakfast and if you aren't up to get there in time, I'm afraid you'll go hungry."

Prisca left the girl's room.

There were sounds of flouncing sorts of movement. Ideena was not stupid enough to miss breakfast! She came out in a brocade dressing gown that had Keilla shouting,

"Noooo! EYESTRAIN!"

"Shut it, Keilla," said Prisca, crisply. "To each their own taste, and you may think it gaudy, but that's only your opinion."

"It's very expensive," said Ideena.

"Yes, woven on a draw loom with about half a dozen colours, and at least two heddles for the background pattern, that amount of cloth is about half a turn's work," said Trayana. "Nicely done, though I'm not that keen on the colours myself."

"And I would care why about the opinion of some lowborn?" said Ideena.

"Because she has the manners to notice and appreciate the luxury of your garments, maybe?" said Prisca. "After going out of our way to be nice to you, having that level of ill-bred discourtesy doesn't dispose us to feel nice towards you. Keilla was rude; please do not reciprocate in kind to those who were NOT rude."

Ideena scowled; she had no intention of making any overtures to a weaver's brat, and said so.

Prisca shrugged.

"Then I withdraw the offer of help with your hair," she said, "I don't feel like helping someone who has no manners. You might be rude enough to me for me to forget myself and issue a good spanking, especially if I have a handy paddle like a hairbrush in my hand. In fact, I don't really want to speak to you."

Ideena sniffed.

"In a few days I won't have to speak to any of you low-borns when as the only properly Ranking person here the Golden Queen recognises me as the obvious choice and you have to defer to me."

She was most put out that this speech to depress pretensions was met only with a gale of laughter.

Prisca would personally have preferred to see Mendra, with all her airs and graces, Impress the little Queen; at least Mendra had a few more reasons for such airs. The other girls finished eating and left Indeena to wash and dress as best she might, clattering laughing and chatting over to the teaching cavern.

St'adar was waiting for them.

"I see some of you exercised," he said.

"Please, sir, we would have too only we hadn't been invited," said Keilla, "The kid and I will join in tomorrow!"

St'adar raised an eyebrow to Prisca.

"I'll be getting them up half an hour after dawn," she said, making it clear to him that they had not been invited to the illicit egg viewing.

"Good; looks like we have a decent bunch of candidates who will give our Queen a good choice," said St'adar, with a brief smile. "Aren't we missing one?"

"She was late up," said Mendra. "We got her up to eat and left her washing and dressing. She didn't seem to want help," she added, thoughtfully.

"She's rude," said Trayana. "Hey! Why did you kick me, Keilla?"

"Sneaking isn't done," said Keilla.

"Well, well, she'll learn – or not," said St'adar. "Others have done so. You girls are responsible for your own conduct, I don't want to hear tales unless it's something that's dangerous."

"I don't think Trayana meant to carry tales, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca, "She just doesn't have a fastening on her mouth and it bangs in the wind."

Keilla laughed.

"That's Faranth's truth, Prisca, sorry I kicked you, Trayana."

Trayana was rubbing her shin.

"I didn't mean it as sneaking, I thought it was all right to… shutting up," she said.

"Wise move," said Gwesara, dryly.

"May we have our schedule reorganised, please, Weyrlingmaster?" asked Prisca, brightly. "Some of us would like to show how much better girls can be than boys by bagging firestone."

St'adar blinked.

"And how many volunteers do we have?" he asked, warily.

All the girls present put their hands up.

"To be fair, Weyrlingmaster, Ideena mentioned that she did not wish to volunteer," said Daraleen.

"Very well, that is noted, though I will ask her. She might find herself doing so anyway if she is much more tardy. Ah, here she comes," he added.

Ideena looked a mess.

"Oh this is impossible!" she wailed, "how can anyone get ready at this ridiculously early hour without a drudge to do her hair and help her dress?"

"Great Shells!" exploded St'adar, "what sort of BABY are you to need someone to help you dress? And if you can't manage your hair on your own, you can cut it off – a Queenrider doesn't have a body servant expected to turn out at all hours to do her hair for her! Prisca, sort that scruffy object out, I'm not going to sit here and look at the back end of an ovine which is what her hair looks like."

"What do you mean, turn out at all hours?" demanded Ideena.

"SIR!" barked Prisca, "You say, 'what do you mean, turn out at all hours SIR' to the Blue Rider!"

"Oh all right, sir, then," said Ideena.

"Barely adequate, but I'll let it pass to move us on," said St'adar. "Ideena, do you think that Thread is going to wait on YOUR convenience? A dragonrider of any colour dragon turns out every seventy hours or so, regardless of whether that is in the middle of the night or not, to fight Thread. It's what dragonriders do. You don't sit on a Golden Queen in the hours of daylight to look pretty, waving at the adoring commons. You do a hard, dangerous task, whenever and wherever you are needed and for as long as it takes. Sometimes this is a gruelling four hours. Sometimes just an hour or so if you take over Threadfall or hand it over to another Weyr's territory. Didn't you realise that?"

Ideena evidently did NOT realise this.

"Oh, oh, I want to go home!" she wailed.

"Go and pack, and I'll see someone takes you," said St'adar. "We don't want decorative little fools."

Ideena stumbled off, sobbing.

"Poor girl – rather a reality check for her," said Daraleen, with sympathy.

"And some of us who had a reality check stuck it out anyway, for a while at least," said Prisca. "If she's too poor spirited to try to show us up as no good after what she said about being the only choice then I'm afraid she's too poor spirited to ride a dragon. Your compassion does you a lot of credit, Daraleen, after having been with girls like her."

Daraleen looked pleased.

"I agree," said St'adar. "But I fear that she's not going to shape up in time – not just a few sevendays."

"We'll have others as bad in, I dare say," said Mendra, gloomily, "Because those on Search will want the kudos of being the ones to find a successful candidate,"

"Bedella has put a three day limit on the Search for Queenrider candidates," said St'adar, "Largely to stop people filling the Weyr with their own, er, concept of potential Weyrwomen. And to give you all more time to adjust to needing to have the fitness to cope. I don't think I'm going to have to worry about any of you girls though," he added, "which means we can devote more time to theory and care of dragons. And that will stand anyone in good stead if, say, they wanted to volunteer as a helper to the Dragonhealer as an assistant in order to continue to be around dragons if you prove an unsuccessful candidate."

"Or become someone's weyrmate and breed children for the Weyr," said Prisca.

He nodded, without looking at her. Prisca was surprised to see a look of pain and anger cross his face.

"Even so," he said with something of a snap. "And if anyone does so, I hope they wouldn't regret the decision."

"Do you want to tell us, sir?" asked Prisca, "if it's a salutary lesson?"

He glared at her; struggled with himself; and shrugged.

"It's common knowledge in the Weyr I suppose. And it might save the life of a silly girl if I tell it. A girl was having an affair with a Rider – me – and she became pregnant. She moved on to a Bronze Rider and decided she no longer wanted the child of a Blue Rider if she could have a Bronze Rider's child. The Bronze Rider took her for a trip _between_. She birthed a live child, very tiny, but alive. She did not survive the experience. The baby boy was reared by my mother, Adara, but it became apparent that he was not… healthy. He had spasms and has grown up with one leg slightly shorter than the other, weakness in the arm that side and he squints and he's short sighted and – and he twitches and drops things. To compound the cruelty he is very, very intelligent and knows that though he is now within age he, of all the Riders' children, will not be permitted to stand for an egg."

"Why not?" said Prisca. "It seems a relatively minor catalogue of problems; he doesn't have to heft a flamethrower, after all, and he could see through his dragon's eyes."

"Telgar has no cranks and cripples like some places," said St'adar, woodenly.

"Ah," said Prisca. The monosyllable spoke volumes.

"And this is why St'adar doesn't like me," said Mendra, resentfully, "because my father was the Bronze Rider who didn't realise what could happen."

"I don't dislike you for anything I dislike about your father, Mendra," said St'adar, his face working, "and this is not the time or place… no, actually this IS the time and place because if you've been labouring under the false impression that I hold you responsible in any way then we should get that cleared up. I don't. I just fail to give as much respect to your father as perhaps I should. And feel that he should have realised that if it's large enough to show, it's large enough to live. Well, perhaps I shouldn't credit a Bronze Rider with so much ability to think things through."

"I think she concealed from him how far along she was," said Mendra. "I recall him shouting about it when I was quite little, and not really understanding then. I was no more than ten turns old, if that, and mother was angry with him for picking a wherry brained idiot as a bed-buddy."

It was quite apparent to Prisca that this was Mendra recalling both words and inflexion precisely; and St'adar apparently recognised it too, and pulled a wry face.

"Then I shall endeavour to be sorry for resenting him," said St'adar. "Thank you, Mendra. I – it won't make any difference to Storadel's being permitted to stand, but it will be less uncomfortable around M'kor."

"M'kor feels bad about it," said Mendra, "He asked the Weyrleader if Storadel could try. The Weyrleader said no, I overheard him discussing it with my mother. He might have played away but he comes to my mother for advice, always."

"That was good of him," said St'adar. "I think I'll go make my peace with him after class. Thank you, Mendra; I appreciate that, and having an adult conversation with you."

He settled them down meanwhile in front of the black board and began to firmly lecture them on the care of newly hatched dragons. Prisca had heard it all before, but she still listened assiduously. Her lazier self might, after all, have missed something!

When they were dismissed for a break, Gwesara grabbed Mendra and Daraleen and motioned to Prisca.

"Look, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she said.

"That we should help develop the kid's muscles by getting him to join our acrobatics?" said Prisca.

"That too," said Gwesara, "but if we're going to sneak a peak at the eggs to try to let the Greens feel us, how about we sneak him in too?"

"You're going to sneak a peak?" said Mendra, horrified. "If we get caught…"

"We'll be beaten like fun," said Gwesara. "Worth the risk, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose so," said Mendra. "I guess if it works it's a way to make up to St'adar for M'kor on my part; if the kid is too crippled for a dragon, nothing on Pern will make one choose him. If there's a dragon for him then it's wrong to deny that dragon the choice. That's why I'm ready to go along with us standing for Greens, because it's not just High Reaches where it's happened, and that means it's something that dragons accept as normal. "

Prisca gave silent thanks to Faranth's first Egg that the girl's stiff necked interpretation of the rules was logical and not viscerally opposed to anything out of the ordinary like some of the Oldtimers. And that she wanted to give her father a way of saving face too, perhaps, in being vindicated in the eyes of the Weyrleader if the boy could Impress. She knew better than these girls how much more bravery and determination counted when flying a dragon than mere physical ability; a dragon would instinctively know not to pick a life mate who had any fatal illness, but ignored such disabilities that could be got around or ignored by the Rider. If Storadel would be prepared to face Thread, and could stand up to those who would disparage him, then he could succeed.

"What if the Weyrleader wants to send him to High Reaches Weyr for being a cripple because he's embarrassed by him?" said Gwesara, "Assuming he DOES Impress?"

"I'd say we had two choices," said Prisca. "Either we give him our blessing because he'll get fair do's there, or we make an issue of it, and say that if he's transferred we all, any of us who Impress, want to transfer too, because a Weyr that can't accept what a dragon thinks is fine is no true Weyr. If there's a Queenrider and one or more Greenriders saying that, R'mart is going to be embarrassed if he makes the ruling. If there's more than one of us with a Green too, then he's going to have a lot to explain to Benden. And I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. Standing together is the key."

"I – I THINK my father would back us," said Mendra.

"I think K'stol would too," said Gwesara.

"Two Bronze Riders would be two people the Weyrleader would have to take notice of," said Prisca. "He doesn't have so many that he can afford to ignore them."

It was too much to hope that Bedella might have a hissy fit and she and R'mart decide to resign and retire South, alas.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Bronze Rider K'stol approached Prisca in his laconic fashion with a well wrapped bundle. Prisca bowed politely.

"Candidate, your other family asked me to give you this in order that you could communicate with them," he said. "I'm informed it's almost ready to hatch and Krysara suggested that you come along to the kitchens to feed it, and you can eat there too."

Prisca's eyes widened.

"Is it – they've sent me an egg?" she gasped.

K'stol grinned.

"Nice to see such honest surprise and pleasure for a favour," he said.

"Oh! I- I never expected… thank you so much for bringing it!" cried Prisca.

"You're welcome. I spoke to the woodcrafter, by the way – and I'm ready to help you out in whatver way you need," said K'stol, steering her away firmly in a way that did not invite the other girls to accompany her.

Prisca went along with him, and said quietly,

"Did you manage to make any sense of his calculations?"

K'stol nodded soberly.

"I don't understand all of it, but I can follow enough, and I take H'llon's word about what his esoteric calculations mean in detail. We need to be aware that we have to modernise in order to be ready for this. Without being disloyal to my Weyrleader, I will do what I can to further change."

"So if several girls Impressed Green dragons you would stand by them?" said Prisca.

K'stol stared.

"That was fast moving if you've talked any of those girls into it," he said, "Or is this just Gwesara?"

"No, there's three others, we're agreed to support each other," said Prisca.

"You High Reaches Women really are as organising as they say," said K'stol.

"I'm not really a High Reaches woman," said Prisca, "and besides, I'm now a Telgar woman. If I wasn't ready to be, I'd be no use here, would I?"

K'stol looked at her thoughtfully.

"Good thought," he said. "I have your paper too, but I thought the egg was more important right now."

Krysara had arranged a pile of sand on the hearth and a bowl of meat; and K'stol helped Prisca to unwrap the precious bundle he had been keeping warm with his own body heat.

Gwesara, Mendra and Daraleen burst in and looked slightly dismayed that K'stol was still there, now drinking klah as Prisca knelt beside the heavily striated little egg from which chirping and scratching noises emerged. Mendra's little blue firelizard was crooning excitedly.

"What, didn't you pests take the hint that you were supposed to be letting St'adar that one of his pupils was busy?" said K'stol. "There are meat rolls and klah if you plan to eat here."

"Thank you, Bronze Rider," said Mendra, politely. "We wanted to be here for Prisca, you know; and I'll help you train your firelizard too, Prisca!"

"Thank you," said Prisca. "OOOOH!" she said as the egg exploded in a shower of shards and a tiny golden head poked forward. She started offering meat scraps to the little queen who snatched and devoured them. Her face filled with wonder as she became aware of the Impression of the little creature and felt the love of her new tiny pet.

"Don't overfeed her," said Mendra, "her belly is now slightly distended; that's enough. Krystara has oil for you here, they are just like miniature dragons, and need much the same care."

"I am glad I have you to help," said Prisca, "I know in theory, but you've done it, and that always counts for more."

Mendra actually smiled.

"It- it's what friends do," she said. "We are friends, aren't we?"

"We're all friends," said Prisca, smiling back at her, and at the other two girls. Her face shone with happiness.

"What are you going to call her?" asked Gwesara.

"Dear me, I'm not very imaginative about names," said Prisca.

"What about Trill, because she's singing?" said Daraleen, shyly.

"Trill she is then," said Prisca. "Oh Mendra, we must get her and your little Corrie to sing with us this evening."

"They don't take much encouraging," said Daraleen, "it will be enough to bring them along; they'll join in."

"You should eat, Prisca," said Gwesara, "or you'll be hungry for lessons this afternoon."

Prisca nodded and turned her attention to klah and meat rolls as the little gold lizard wrapped her tail around the girl's wrist and went to sleep.

oOoOo

St'adar raised an eyebrow at the new firelizard on Prisca's arm as the girls went in for a lesson in draganatomy.

"A gift from a friend, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca.

"Ah," said St'adar. "Useful for sending messages, make sure to train her well."

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca, "I was hoping that the lessons on dragon care might be useful on a smaller scale, too."

"Good point, candidate," said St'adar. "If I can use your new little friend to point out when oil is needed, what the eye colours indicate and, if need be, what happens with a thickened tail, we shall have our own miniature queen as a teaching aid. And as you wretched girls will doubtless be wanting to spend all your time petting her, you may as well take something useful from letting your minds flutter around like a flock of weesweets."

Mendra winced slightly and Gwesara looked nervous. Daraleen giggled.

"I don't think you bite half so hard as you growl, Weyrlingmaster," she said. "I think you're really quite pleased to have the opportunity to demonstrate with Trill!"

St'adar scowled at her, and Daraleen giggled still more.

Prisca poked her.

"Have the decorum to pretend that he's scary, in lessons anyway, it's in the rules that Weyrlingmasters are crusty," she said.

Daraleen hiccupped herself under control.

"Sorry, Weyrlingmaster," she said.

"So I should hope," said St'adar. "Very well, as Prisca is outing my secret as well as Daraleen, let me just say that rearing a young dragon is the most serious thing any lucky candidate will ever do in their lives, and as it's the life of dragonkind in MY hands in teaching you how to go on, then if any of you girls fail to take it seriously, I will leave crusty so far behind that it will look like sweetness and benevolence by comparison."

Mendra nodded.

"Yes, Gwesara and I CERTAINLY understand that, Weyrlingmaster, we wondered if you were angry because you had shown you were human earlier."

"No Mendra, I'm just concerned to do my job with all the necessary vigour that it takes," said St'adar.

"I think," said Gwesara, "now that silly piece Ideena has screeched off in horror, you've got a class which recognises the seriousness of what we are here for, and what being a dragonrider means."

Even Trayana nodded; her big eyes unwontedly serious. She might be here for the adventure, but she was also respectful of dragonkind.

St'adar nodded, thankfully.

"I am glad that you can all be adult about this," he said. "I was half afraid of a clutch of ninnies."

Prisca laughed cynically.

"Can't guarantee that there won't be more in who are," she said. "We'll be happy to buckle under to strict, you can always lighten the mood when the time limit Bedella set is up if you have a class willing to listen."

St'adar nodded, glad of the fact that his task would not actually be to hard; and glad that Mendra appeared to have dropped her seeming attitude of superiority for her father's status.

The lesson went well, and as they finished writing up their notes, St'adar said,

"I've arranged for Krysara to provide you all with baggy trews and smocks to put on to bag firestone as I doubted many of you would have working clothes; she's judged your sizes and had a drudge leave them on your beds. You have half an hour for a drink – and do drink, you will get thirsty bagging firestone – and make yourselves comfortable, and change into the work clothes to report to me. The boys' Weyrlingmaster is dubious about this experiment, so please, girls, don't let me down by being silly. Any urges to silliness, and I'd rather you didn't volunteer."

"You can watch me," said Prisca, quietly, "I know how to ply a shovel."

Gwesara nodded.

"And me," she said, "I've mucked in to help when it was needed."

Mendra flushed slightly; and reflected that she had, at least, watched.

"After all, how hard can it be?" said Keilla.

"It can be very hard until you get the rhythm of it," said Prisca, a little sharply. "Those people who go at it like a wher at a noise in the night will find themselves exhausted and aching in short order."

"Quite so, Prisca," said St'adar. "As the boys will also find. Listen to the voice of experience and match your movements to Prisca and Gwesara and do not let the boys taunt you into a faster and less efficient pace."

oOoOo

The girls changed rapidly, and drank some fruitjuice, mindful of the admonition of St'adar. Keilla was still secretly certain that her seabred muscles would permit her to bag much faster than the others, and Prisca sighed because she was fairly certain what was going through the girl's mind. Keilla would learn. They all went over to the stored firestone, where St'adar was waiting for them with a scowling, and faintly sneering Weyrlingmaster. The boys were, some of them, openly sneering; attitudes came from the top after all.

Prisca smiled brightly and picked up a shovel and a sack, and proceeded to demonstrate quietly and without fuss the High Reaches approved method for shovelling firestone. The others followed suit, Keilla setting off a cracking pace.

It was Trayana who surreptitiously kicked her in the ankle.

"Didn't you LISTEN to Prisca?" she hissed. "She's been in a Weyr and she knows what she's talking about, so do Gwesara and Mendra, and they aren't rushing ahead. Do you WANT the boys to laugh at us because one of us knocks herself into a heap?"

"My good kiddy, I'm seabred and it develops the muscles, helping land catches," said Keilla.

"Well I doubt it develops muscles the way the acrobatics Prisca does can do," said Trayana, bluntly. "I expect that any of us would take YOUR advice about handling fish; it's pretty rude of you not to take the advice of others to do what THEY know."

"Well put," said Gwesara, who had eavesdropped. "I will let you teach me to sail, Keilla, let the weyrbred amongst us show you how to do Weyr tasks."

Keilla flushed, but moderated her speed. In truth, she was starting to notice that the pace she had set herself was starting to hurt her. The more measured pace was much easier.

Prisca said nothing, but she gave the other girl an approving nod. Keilla was old enough to know better, fully as old as Prisca and Mendra, into her twenties. It had taken the brashness of the younger girl to make her think; and Prisca smiled wryly to herself that even the rather impulsive outbursts of a slightly immature girl like Trayana could do a lot of good.

Prisca reflected that actually none of the girls would be out of place as Green Riders – after all, any immaturity would tend to be cured by time and the work of caring for a dragon.

Meanwhile the Weyrlingmaster was looking faintly outraged and chagrined that the girls were getting on with their task without fuss, and with a degree of efficiency that actually put most of the boys to shame. He had already had to bellow at a couple of the boys for slacking, show several what to do with shovels and to cuff the two who were making a race of it. Boys would be boys and make a race of it, but it would not do to have them flagging in front of the girls when such a pace told on unaccustomed muscles. Prisca could have sworn that he was angry at the girls for showing well; and at St'adar for looking frankly smug.

There was a boy with a squint, watching wistfully; and Prisca drifted towards him with an empty bag.

"You can join us girls if you like," she said.

"I have a weak arm, candidate," said the boy.

"Use the strong one to hold the shovel, and take it a bit slower then," said Prisca, with a shrug.

He brightened.

"Do you think I can do it?" he asked.

"I think you can do anything you put your mind to," said Prisca.

The boy set to, determinedly.

The Weyrlingmaster came over.

"Boy, you are not a candidate, what do you think you're doing?"

"Volunteering to help the girls, sir," said the boy.

The Weyrlingmaster sneered.

"You useless creature!" he said, "I suppose you think that if you can manage some of the work that you will have the chance to stand as a candidate; you stupid cripple, you will never have that chance, you are ugly and useless and nobody wants you anywhere near them, I suggest you make yourself scarce!"

"Brown Rider, the boy is helping US, not your charges," said Prisca, coldly, "and I invited him, he is NOT under your jurisdiction; indeed if you can speak so to any child and disparage them so cruelly and in a manner unworthy of a dragonrider, I don't actually consider you are a proper person to have ANY child under your jurisdiction."

He stared.

"Just who on Pern do you think you are to talk to me like that?" he roared.

"Who am I? I'm a candidate, Brown Rider, and that either means that in a few weeks I'll be going back to my privileged life as a Holder's daughter and out of your life, or I'll have Impressed a Golden Queen and will be in a position to eat your balls for breakfast. So really, I don't actually care, in either case, how much I upset you, Brown Rider because there's nothing you can do to me. So I can speak my mind and tell you that you don't measure up to the ideal of a dragonrider who should protect and serve, and if you think that summoning your dragon to intimidate me really is going to work you must think I'm a real stupid wherry head. Dragons don't hurt humans, and anyone hoping to be a Rider doesn't get intimidated by dragons."

The big Brown dragon had come swooping down hissing, and several of the boys had taken an involuntary step back. After a moment of wavering, the girls all came and stood by Prisca and stared out the Brown Rider and his dragon.

"St'adar, you should discipline your charges," hissed the Weyrlingmaster.

"Why? They've done nothing wrong," said St'adar. "They've shown compassion and bravery, both excellent qualities in any dragonrider. Pity there aren't six Queen eggs for they've just shown they are ALL in with a chance. You stay out of my girls' area, St'mon, and bully those boys who are under your dubious jurisdiction. And keep the fardles away from Storadel too, if he wants to volunteer it has ALWAYS been acceptable for weyr children to do so."

St'mon achieved a sneer.

"Perhaps you should send him to High Reaches Weyr to add to their cranks and cripples," he said.

"Perhaps," said St'adar, "I SHOULD take him to the Weyr which has the best record for protection and casualties on Pern, where his willingness to try would mark him out as a boy with a better chance at a dragon than some of your idle little dimglows who are watching this with idle curiosity as a good chance to slack. My girls have gone back to work without needing to be told. Look to your Weyrlings, Weyrlingmaster."

St'mon swung round and began shouting at his boys, cuffing them into activity.

"So THAT'S St'mon," said Prisca.

"Have you heard of him, candidate?" asked Storadel.

"I know T'mon, and by reputation, Jilamon," said Prisca.

Storadel's eyes flared.

"They let Timon contract? St'mon said he wasn't a proper dragon rider!"

"He's accounted a brave man, and essential both in mountain rescue AND in the Queen's Wing at High Reaches," said Prisca, "And Jilamon will stand when he's older too. He wants a craft behind him."

"They were my only friends," said Storadel, "though St'mon tried to stop them being nice to me. How come you know, Candidate?"

"I made a mess of being a candidate in High Reaches Weyr but learned a lot there," said Prisca.

"And do they really treat cripples as people there?" asked the boy, wistfully.

"Cripples are people," said Prisca, who had never in her worst days thought High Reaches wrong in their approach. "And people give to the extent of their abilities. I see no reason you shouldn't ride a dragon."

"I – I'm short sighted," said Storadel.

"So? Your dragon wouldn't be, you could see through his eyes," said Prisca.

"But they won't let me stand," said Storadel.

"Then join us girls," said Prisca. "Mendra was going to find you to invite you anyway; we're going to view the eggs secretly to give us a chance to Impress Green dragons. We plan to sneak in at dawn tomorrow."

"Why should you help me?" Storadel asked, half suspiciously that he was being set up to be caught sneaking into the hatching cavern alone and get into trouble.

"Because we thought it was unfair; and from my point of view as well, because St'adar is my lover," said Prisca, "Which I haven't shared with the other girls."

Storedel regarded her thoughtfully, then gave a little nod.

"In that case I should think you and he might stay together because you're not his usual type," he said.

"He's not my usual type either," said Prisca, dryly, "but I can be very comfortable with the idea of growing old together, which isn't usually what I think of when I take a lover."

"I have a foster mother, you know, my grandmother," said Storadel, politely, "but will you be my friend?"

"I will," promised Prisca, containing firmly the anger she felt for all those who had made this poor waif friendless for disabilities that were no fault of his, which was surely imposing a worse kind of disability on the lad than any physical problems he had.

As if to emphasise that, his arm twitched as he shovelled, and he showered her with firestone; and cowered as if expecting a blow.

"The correct response is a careless laugh, and a quick apology that your body sometimes lets you down," said Prisca, brushing away the small pieces that had lodged in clothes and hair. "You twitch sometimes?"

He nodded, wordlessly, big eyes on her face, reading as well as he might what her expression might be. Prisca smiled at him.

"Well, it can't be helped, can it?" she said, "or maybe it can; you might also like to join us girls for exercises, I'm teaching the others acrobatics and maybe I can help make the weaker arm a bit stronger. I don't know! but when my little Trill is bigger, I shall write to the MasterHealer and ask if HE knows any exercises I can show you," she added, smiling in what she knew was quite soppy adoration of her tiny golden pet, who had started to wake up.

"Prisca, go and feed Trill," ordered St'adar, noticing this also, "Like a young dragon she will be hungry most of the time she's awake for a while. Storadel, go and help her!"

"Yessir," said Prisca.

"Yessir!" echoed Storadel.

The period of bagging firestone was almost over anyway, and St'adar nodded to the girls to start clearing up.

Storadel said tentatively,

"He doesn't talk to you like a lover."

Prisca laughed.

"Oh but if he did we shouldn't have it as a secret any more; and besides, what sort of Weyrlingmaster would he be if he showed favouritism?"

"St'mon does," said Storadel.

"I rest my case," said Prisca, dryly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

After the evening meal, the girls were ready to play and sing their piece for Bedella; she had invited the other Weyrwoman and the Bronze Riders to listen, and Prisca was pleased that she had not known this in advance or she might have felt nervous. Mendra looked suddenly apprehensive, and Prisca poked her gently.

"Sing it for yourself," she muttered. "Think about doing it. THEY don't matter."

Mendra gave her a tight smile. _Pleasing a Bronze Rider father must be a hard thing_, thought Prisca; _I'd be delighted to show off something I'd enjoyed learning to MY father_. She did not voice her thoughts however and motioned to Daraleen to lead the singing.

The girls sang with gusto; having been bagging firestone not long before gave it an immediacy, and their singing went with a real swing, Trill and Mendra's little blue Corrie adding counterpoints in clear sweet descants.

Bedella was plainly enchanted.

"Excellent music!" she declared. "Who was it who brought it?"

"I did, Weyrwoman," said Prisca, "I was training in record keeping with Harpers, and it's hard not to pick up new songs when people are playing and singing around you all the time. The Harpers of Brightwater have all the latest songs out of the Harper Hall."

"Perhaps we should invite them to come and perform," mused Bedella.

"I am sure they have more things to do than private performances," said R'mart waspishly. Prisca made a sudden discovery; R'mart, if not tone deaf, was close enough that the music had been mere noise to him, if his bored expression had been anything to go by. She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Bedella; what woman would not be peevish if trapped in what was essentially marriage with a man who could not share something that was plainly a passion.

"I am sure that they would be honoured," said Prisca, smiling brightly and feigning to miss the Weyrleader's obvious lack of enthusiasm. K'stol shot her a suspicious look which she met with a bland and enthusiastic face devoid of anything even that could be remotely described as intellect. K'stol rolled his eyes up to the cavern roof.

"Then I shall send a messenger to them," said Bedella, either oblivious to, or ignoring, her weyrmate's lack of enthusiasm.

"Perhaps they should entertain for the hatching?" suggested Prisca, looking suitably awed at the thought, "part of their reward to be to witness it!"

"An excellent idea; then we shan't have to pay them so much," said Bedella, who was shrewd enough to see an advantage, if not clever enough to recognise that she was being manipulated.

As it apparently passed over Palla's head too, a secretly appalled Prisca was rapidly coming to the conclusion that any one of the women of High Reaches, down to and including the sassy Sagarra, was probably more capable of being an effective Weyrwoman than either of Telgar's resident Queen Riders.

It did NOT pass Gwesara by.

"What were you up to?" she asked in a whisper after the girls bowed and left the senior Weyrriders.

"She was up to something?" Mendra asked. Daraleen giggled.

"Harpercraft taught you manipulation too?" she asked.

Prisca grinned.

"No, I figured that out for myself – by watching and learning," she said. "I felt that some of the people I knew in Brightwater Hold were well worthy of dragons and I thought it would be nice to get them into a place where the dragons could feel them. I thought I'd project pictures of them as best I could when we view the eggs."

"R'mart will have an apoplexy," said Mendra, horrified.

"Good, perhaps he'll retire in horror," said Prisca. "We need to keep telling Bedella how clever she was to sense that the musicians should be there to add to a musical Weyr."

"You're so sharp you're in danger of cutting yourself, Prisca!" said Gwesara, half horrified, half admiring.

"You're trying to get as many people as possible around whichever of us gets the Queen as supporters of change, aren't you?" said Mendra, shrewdly.

Prisca shrugged.

"Safety in numbers," she said. "One Green Rider might be shuffled off to High Reaches. Several? Much less easy, and would make the Weyr even more of a laughing stock."

Mendra winced.

"Telgar Weyr is a laughing stock in High Reaches?" she whispered.

"What do you think?" said Prisca. "Hanging on to old ideas like someone too cowardly to have a bad tooth pulled, despising the cranks and cripples in the face of the evidence that High Reaches flies a more efficient sweep than any other Weyr, as I've heard from itinerants and travelling Journeymen, NOT from the Weyr which does not boast. And Telgar fails to Protect and Serve, takes little notice of the talents to be exploited in those who happen to be disabled, or female, and has a falling population of dragons. It's wrong that a Weyr should be a laughing stock, and moreover that things are bad enough that it's a byword, like beastcrafters, for hidebound stupidity amongst Holderfolk."

Mendra was white.

"Then it's our bounden duty to improve things," she said.

"Yes," said Prisca, "Which is why we've sworn to support each other. They can't do anything if we stand together, and whoever gets the Queen supports the Greenriders and they support her. We can do this."

"It would help if Bedella exerted herself and didn't let R'mart say such awful things," said Gwesara.

"Interesting, it's thought at High Reaches that she's hysterical and he gives in for a quiet life," said Prisca. "Not so?"

"No," said Mendra, "Though I can see him saying 'My Weyrwoman wouldn't like it' to put a clincher on an argument he's making, you know. She's – she doesn't seem aware of the undercurrents of what people think."

Prisca gasped.

"She missed R'mart's disapproval of the musicians, and though she displayed pleasure after we had finished, her face was pretty expressionless through the performance. I wonder…" she mused.

"Wonder what?" demanded Daraleen.

"H'llon of High Reaches, he and his family have this inability to read other people, and also take things pretty literally, and can't cope with figures of speech," said Prisca. "It doesn't affect his abilities as a dragonrider, but he was a byword for failing to notice the importunities of any woman. If Bedella has the same sort of thing she might not be as stupid as she looks, but just fails to pick up what's going on. NOT good in a Weyrleader."

"Palla's her daughter," said Mendra, "And she hasn't a clue. If J'frey's Willerth hadn't flown Talmanth I doubt she'd even have noticed that he admired her. From what my mother has said," she added honestly. "I wasn't around at the time."

"Oh dear," said Prisca. "That doesn't bode well for when R'mart and Bedella DO retire."

"If you are supposed to use Trill to pass messages to help you change Telgar from the inside, I think perhaps that is something you SHOULD pass on," said Gwesara, quietly. Prisca flushed. Mendra stared at her; changed colour several times, and nodded.

"I think I'd rather have a friend change things from inside than have Benden step in and order a change," she said. "I don't have to like it though, if you're taking instructions from outside."

"I'm not, well not really," said Prisca, "I was asked if I'd mind standing and seeing what, if anything could be done to make sure that by the time the second half of the projected Long Pass happened, younger Riders were more amenable to change."

"LONG PASS?" her three friends stared.

Prisca swallowed hard and explained.

"That puts an even more serious complexion on Telgar's shortcomings," said Mendra, "and I will endorse your actions and follow your lead. May I tell my father about the Long Pass?"

Prisca hesitated.

"I – I think as a Bronze Rider he should have been told already," she said. "I don't think R'mart believes it, though I've not been told anything categorical; obviously no-one wants to criticise a Weyrleader to someone who isn't even a Rider. I accept that, though I picked up a LOT of loose gossip."

"I don't understand a word of your explanation but I can accept that a Long Interval is balanced by a Long Pass," said Gwesara, "and if there's even a possibility of it, then it has to be treated as though it were definitely going to happen, because preparation for an eventuality that doesn't arise is far better than not preparing and being caught on the hop."

"Quite," said Mendra.

"I think I nearly understood some of it," said Daraleen, "and I wouldn't want to bet my life on it NOT happening. Besides, if it was worked out by H'llon, everyone knows he's the cleverest man on Pern, whatever his reputation for not noticing sexual lures might be."

"Half of that is because he's too busy inventing something useful as well anyway!" laughed Prisca, relieved that this revelation was drawing her friends even closer in to supporting her. It had been a tight moment there with Mendra.

When the girls returned to their living cavern it was to find Keilla and Trayana rather warily facing two new girls.

"Listen, whichever of you brats has put your things in the end sleeping cavern, you can just tell the drudge that it's to be moved out," said one of them, with fine gold hair and bright turquoise blue eyes. There was a red mark on the face of the drudge.

"Did you strike the drudge for refusing to move my kit without permission?" asked Prisca, quietly.

The girl shrugged.

"Of course," she said. "Drudges obey orders."

"The drudge is for the convenience of us all," said Prisca. "I suggest you apologise, and a lady would offer a few marks compensation for a fit of unladylike temper as well."

"Excuse me, and WHO are you to speak to me like that? I am Dailla and my father is Holder of Tworocks Hold," said the girl.

"Never heard of it," said Prisca. "I Rank you outside of the Weyr; and in the Weyr we all Rank each other as candidates, though it's custom to defer to Mendra and Gwesara as Weyrbred."

"And we choose Prisca as our spokeswoman and leader," said Gwesara, "which puts her in charge."

The golden haired Dailla looked furious.

"But I WANT that room!" she said.

"I want Thread not to happen, and that's as likely as me giving up my room to an ill-conditioned, spoilt brat who is so low as to strike a drudge who can't strike back," said Prisca. "I am sorry that you, who are weyrbred, have to have the temporary duty of cleaning up behind this nasty creature, er, Spella," she added to the drudge woman, who looked amazed and gratified that Prisca knew her name. "Most of us aren't so incapable as to need a drudge, but I fear this little baby will need your services."

Dailla slapped Prisca.

Prisca had been hoping for that; and slapped her back. Prisca's muscles were a lot better conditioned than Dailla's, and the slap was a lot harder. Dailla howled.

"Serve you right," said Mendra. "You started it. Now shift your kit into one of the empty rooms, or sleep in your clothes. None of us care if you can't behave."

"You'll all be sorry when I've Impressed a Golden Queen!" hissed Dailla.

The other girls greeted that with howls of derisive laughter.

"When there are at least three girls more likely than you? That's just so funny!" said Trayana. "I've got a better chance than you, and frankly, I'm hoping that I'll do like Mirrim and Impress a Green, much more fun than having to be a Weyrwoman!"

"Any of us would be honoured to Impress any dragon," said Prisca, firmly. "Well, if Dailla hasn't the manners to be found in a sty, I suggest we all whip round for a mark or two for Spella to show OUR appreciation and a collective apology for the wherry-fork in our midst."

The others murmured assent and Spella found several wooden tokens pressed upon her while Keilla proceeded to tell Dailla exactly what she thought of her in a few choice fishcrafter terms.

"Ladies, you're all what Weyrwomen are supposed to be," she said, emotionally.

Prisca nodded to her, and turned to the other girl who had arrived, a pale girl with pale hair of nondescript shade and grey eyes, plain next to the lovely Dailla but with far more life and intelligence in the depth of her eyes.

"My apologies for virtually ignoring you," said Prisca, "we had that small irritation to deal with."

"I'm Julyn," said the girl, "craftbred; my grandsire is Masterminer Nicat. I try not to let small irritations upset me. Where would you like me to sleep?"

"Your grandsire is much respected by dragonfolk," said Prisca, "for he helped save the life of a Golden Queen and her clutch."

"DID he?" said Julyn, "he hasn't told me THAT story!"

"I don't know it either," said Gwesara.

"Nor I," said Mendra.

Prisca had heard the tale in High Reaches Weyr of how T'lana had calculated the length at which the crack in the roof of the hatching cavern would fail, bringing half a mountain down on Segrith and her clutch, and how nobody would listen to her explanation that holes needed to be drilled at each end; and that she had fetched the Masterminer who had endorsed her theoretical knowledge with his own practical knowledge, and had proceeded to drill holes very carefully. The humming of dragons as the eggs hatched had caused the crack to extend to the holes – but not beyond. Anyone curious enough could still see T'lana's holes, as they were called.

The other girls – bar Dailla – were fascinated.

"I wish we had know that before!" said Mendra, "I will certainly tell my father!"

"And who is your father, then, the Weyr hole-digger?" sneered Dailla.

"My father," said Mendra, "not that it's any business of a jumped up creature like you, is Bronze Rider M'kor."

That silenced Dailla quite effectively – as even her father deferred to Bronze Riders! In fact he deferred to ALL Riders, but Bronze Riders were the paradigm of power.

"I don't really have much chance of Impressing a Queen," Julyn said to Prisca, as Prisca showed her to an empty room, helping her with her kit, "but I wasn't about to pass up the experience, and the chance to be with dragons close up. It will be something to tell MY grandchildren perhaps one day," she added wistfully.

Prisca regarded her thoughtfully. She liked what she saw; a frank open face, and when they had entered the cavern, Julyn had had her arm around Spella protectively.

"I liked the way you were comforting Spella," she said, "and I like how you want to be with dragons. Tell me honestly, do you think that you won't Impress because of a fear of Thread, for it's plain you don't fear dragons?"

Julyn shook her head.

"I don't like Thread, of course," she said, "but I've walked Sweep with the apprentices, and destroyed burrows with Agenothree, and used a flame-thrower too. I think I could face it. But I don't think I'm forceful enough to be a Queenrider."

"It doesn't always follow that you have to be forceful," said Prisca, "and you may find more in you than you realised you have if you had to step up to the mark. But given that you feel that way, would you stand for a Green if it were possible?"

"Like a gontermorra into a burrow when a Wherry is overhead," said Julyn. "But I thought Telgar didn't offer it?"

"Some of us are hoping to break that custom," said Prisca, "and are swearing to be loyal to each other whatever colour we Impress; and planning to view the other eggs covertly. Will you join with us?"

Julyn's eyes widened.

"What if we're caught?" she said.

"Beating and packed off home, I should think," said Prisca. "I think it's worth risking."

Julyn nodded.

"So do I," she said. "What do I have to do?"

"We're slipping out predawn to wait for Talmanth to hunt and slip in quietly. And I MEAN quietly. No giggling nervously or chattering."

"So you aren't including the younger girl or the one with the Seabred voice," said Julyn, dryly.

"No," said Prisca, regretfully. "I'd like to, but I think they might be… a problem."

Julyn nodded.

"I appreciate the trust you put in me," she said quietly.

"I am certain you are worthy of it," said Prisca.

It would not be as easy, now there were five girls and Storadel, to be unnoticed, but it could be done; and the wider the choice for the dragonets, the better.

She nodded to the other girls in on the secret after Julyn had stowed her belongings.

"I'm for bed, and I advise those who plan to join me for early exercises to do so too," she said.

"Early exercises? What is THIS?" declared Dailla in disgust.

"We're doing some exercises to strengthen our muscles to make shovelling firestone easier," said Daraleen, sweetly.

Dailla stared in horror.

"Shovelling firestone? Surely we are not required to do THAT?" she demanded.

"Well what do you think, that a candidate should sit about looking like a useless object like some Holder's useless brats?" said Mendra. "Dear me, Dailla, I suppose you'll be expecting klah in bed and help with dressing next!"

As Dailla DID expect klah in bed and help with dressing she stared in speechless horror that this was something that was apparently considered the epitome of foolishness.

"Well I won't do these exercises and I won't bag firestone," she said, "I will explain to whoever is in charge that I am delicately nurtured and cannot do such things."

"I wouldn't bother to unpack, then," said Prisca, bluntly. "If you're such a feeble object," – the word 'feeble' had incensed Ideena and might as well be used again – "then you won't have the strength to scrub and oil even a Green dragon, let alone a Golden Queen, who is more than twice the length, and therefore eight times the bulk and four times the area of skin to clean and oil. If you can't do the job, don't bother to waste the Weyrlingmaster's time."

Dailla glowered at Prisca in dislike; and Prisca felt a glow of pride that she had remembered the statistics T'lana had quoted to her when ticking her off for laziness, and that she had managed to use the same tone of offhand disinterest that had so galled her when T'lana had shown her amused contempt.

Dailla flounced off to her room. If the others were going to bed too, as they seemed to be, there was no point trying to fascinate the younger ones away from their stance of obedience to this awful Prisca woman without some preparation. Weyrlingmaster, this Prisca had said. Dailla had no doubt that she could wrap any man around her little finger, and get out of such awful chores, and get Prisca into trouble too!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The grey of predawn saw the five girls slipping quietly out of their cavern. Prisca had got up even earlier to get meat for Trill and Corrie, so they were both too full to make much noise in happy sated lethargy. Storadel detached himself from a shadow and limped over to meet them.

"I didn't bother to go to sleep so I knew I wouldn't sleep in," he said in an excited whisper.

"Don't make a habit of it," said Prisca. "Growing bodies need sleep. Gwesara, you know where we are going."

Gwesara nodded and led them to a cavern used as a storage space.

"It used to be a Junior Queen's Weyr, like our cavern," she said, "But there was a bit of a rock fall at the back. It opened a fissure in the rock and that's where we're going."

The others followed her, squeezing down the narrow fissure, that required the frightening moments of going on hands and knees under a large lump of rock for a dozen or more heartbeats before they could stand up again. And then they were waiting as Gwesara motioned them to stillness and went forward.

"She's gone," she whispered, "I saw her go. Quickly now, just pass among the eggs and back again."

The last wriggle was through a fissure so narrow Prisca was glad not to be in any way buxom, and then they were on the hot sands of the hatching cavern, with all the eggs laid out before them, each in a little heap of sand. The Golden egg sat a little apart, and all the girls' eyes turned to it, wistfully. But they would see that officially; and now was the time to influence other dragonets in the hopes of more than one of them Impressing. Prisca too was projecting thoughts of Adine, Ketalla, Camys, Feytha and Journeyman Valtar too. Ketalla might well come along even though not a proper apprentice like the others just for the experience; and she was someone worth putting to Green. Whether Feytha would have the desire to even try Prisca could not be sure, but it would be unfair for her former maid not to have the opportunity.

She was herself letting her mind be open as they had been taught at High Reaches; and she murmured to the others to let their minds wander freely to permit the dragonets a chance to know them, and tried to keep her mind off the beautiful Golden egg.

And then Gwesara was motioning them back to the fissure.

"I know I'm maybe over nervous," she whispered as they were back inside, "but I'd rather be nervous than caught!"

"Agreed!" said Mendra, fervently.

Storadel was nodding silently, his face glowing. Prisca recognised the look. She had seen it on the faces of those sensitive enough to feel even the earliest of calls and respond to it; she had been to enough egg viewings and hatchings to have picked up why some youths were reckoned to have better chances than others and not just from good attitude.

"Five marks says Storadel has a Bronze," she said to Mendra, almost automatically.

"Are you mad?" said Mendra, "I hope he Impresses, but a Bronze?"

"Aren't you taking?" said Prisca.

"Oh, I'm taking," said Mendra. "Evens?"

"I think so," said Prisca. "It's not a question of will he Impress, only the colour. I've seen enough viewings to know which candidates hear an early call!"

"I wish I had," said Mendra. "Hatchings aren't common here at all."

"No, about three that I recall," added Gwesara. "Hush now as we go to the cavern entrance and pass nonchalantly on to do our acrobatics!"

They slid out into the pale dawn light and were all out and most of them boldly crossing the bowl as Talmanth swooped back down and into the hatching cavern; and Prisca slid back to check that the girls who were to join in the exercises were awake.

They would not risk another visit; but it had been done.

oOoOo

St'adar quietly watched the girls exercising; and noted Prisca's patience and kindness towards his son, helping him do some simple exercises. Impatience with the less gifted had never been a vice of Prisca's; and though it had taken her a while for compassion to be active, rather than passive, she had no problem with taking as much time as Storadel needed. Having been sedentary of habit, she did not have the same nervous energy that made some athletic young people impatient with those less active than themselves. Prisca revelled in the energy that her exercise gave her, and was sympathetic to those with less energy, such as she had once been. In retrospect it had probably been as much a fault of eating too many sweet cakes as it had been having a lazy lifestyle encouraged by her mother, though she chuckled to herself at a comment she had overheard Krysara make, that Candidate Prisca knew how to hustle. Krysara had never been exposed to what High Reaches REALLY called hustling!

St'adar came over.

"I think you girls are doing very well," he said, quietly, "but it might be as well to be about your business now. St'mon will be out with the boys very shortly."

"Thank you Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca. It would be as well to avoid another clash with St'mon! She had been infernally rude to him, after all – and would never have dreamed of speaking to a Brown Rider in the Reaches in such a fashion! However, they were used to the idea of spoilt brats of candidates here, so perhaps she might just be put down as one of those; and it had needed to be said. Protect and Serve was something that should begin at home and St'mon had been out of line interfering in the volunteering of the girls, so long as they stayed out of the way of his boys, and he knew it. Prisca was fairly certain that taunting Storadel was at least partly a way to hurt his younger brother St'adar and keep him in what St'mon perceived as his place; and too in some rage that his sons were not in the Weyr to stand, one for placing the life of dragonkind above the wishes of his father, the other for refusing to promise not to do the same. And therefore revered by the despised High Reaches Weyr. Prisca also knew that Jilamon had been adopted by a dragonless man who had been left to live or die by Telgar Weyr, and who had chosen life and marriage to the Lady Warder of Rivenhill Hold; and that the treatment of Dragonless men – a horrible thing to contemplate – at Telgar had also led to one such man joining Thella's band of renegades. That High Reaches Weyr had pioneered a program of asking dragons to talk to dragonless men, following the example of Brekke, who could hear all dragons, probably made Telgar's leaders more inclined to stand against this move, though there were rumours that Igen and Benden at least planned to try this out.

The girls moved off, taking Storadel with them.

"You may as well eat with us, kid, I doubt you'll leave us going hungry!" said Gwesara, cheerfully. It was a kindness; any other weyr children his age, boys, anyway, would be standing for eggs and would be sleeping and eating with the other candidates. Being with older girls might not be any better than being with younger girls, but at least the lad shared a secret with them. And the look of wonder still in his eyes might just be remarked upon.

Spella was in the cavern as the girls returned, collecting dirty clothing for laundry.

"Sit a minute, Spella, we're going to bathe and will load you with more!" said Prisca, gaily.

"If you ladies are ready for breakfast, I'll go fetch that while you bathe, and collect the clothes after," said Spella.

"Whatever's most convenient to you," said Prisca, "we don't want to interrupt the smooth running of the Weyr!"

Spella gave a grim smile.

"Thank you, Candidate Prisca," she said.

Prisca bathed and went to check if Dailla was up. She found the girl staring impotently at her hairbrush, her hair a mess.

"I don't mind helping, providing you keep a civil tongue in your head to me," said Prisca. "At least you don't have curls; I assure you, the tangles are quite unpleasant!"

Dailla grunted something that might have been thanks, and handed over the hairbrush. Prisca proceeded to brush out her hair, explaining what she was doing and how it helped. She sectioned it neatly off to plait.

"Wait, I don't wear my hair like a baby or some cotholder's woman!" said Dailla.

"It's more convenient," said Prisca, whose dark locks were ruthlessly confined in a plait that reached the top of her buttocks.

Dailla sniffed, and snatched the brush from her.

Prisca shrugged. She had done her best to do a kindness, and if Dailla liked to be ungracious with regards to advice and to a favour done, then she would find other people would soon stop showing her kindnesses.

Dailla had her plans to consider, and being late would not help her forward them. She washed and dressed as best she might, and made the best of herself in front of the small mirror in her room. She dressed in a gown that had been much admired at Gathers, and if she wondered at all why the other girls were giggling rather, she assumed it was some juvenile over-excitement. Dailla was certain that at 24 turns she was the oldest and therefore the most likely candidate, having the maturity needed but without having lost any of her delicate beauty.

As it happened, Mendra and Prisca were only a couple of turns younger, and either one, had they bothered to compare notes, considered Dailla to be immature. There was no age limit set as such for candidates to a Queen egg, but by custom they tended to be over twenty and under thirty at most Weyrs, to allow for having grown up without having lost a sufficiency of malleability to adapt to having a life partner telepathically linked to them. In practice, many candidates would be in their late teens, since the strong minded enough tended to have either settled to a craft, or had married and ruled a family, or indeed a Hold, by the age of twenty. The wealthy and socially elevated were those who often had more opportunity to pick and choose with regards to marriage if they were not used as pawns in alliances, and Holder's daughters were usually either married off very young – especially amongst the Seaholders – or permitted their own choice and a later wedding. Keilla was a fortunate girl in not having been married off young, and by her cheerful and irreverent references to her Seaholder father was lucky to enjoy an excellent relationship with him, and a high degree of autonomy over her own life. She came next in age, followed rapidly by Gwesara, and then the Crafter girls. Prisca reflected that the Craftbred tended to be both more and less mature than holdbred, in different ways; apprentices might still be apprentices by the age of twenty, and inclined still to consider themselves as boys, and lark about, which encouraged girls the same age even if not apprenticed to do likewise. Crafter women tended to wed older, after long courtships, too. Arranged marriages were extremely rare. On the other hand, crafters had to have a sense of responsibility with regards the equipment they used, which might be potentially dangerous, and, too, have the ability to buckle down to work for their marks. It was a bit of a paradox.

Prisca decided that as her aid had been treated most ungraciously, she would not bother to point out that the frills and furbelows of Dailla's frock would not impress St'adar or anyone else as suitable garb for someone supposed to be learning about riding a dragon. All the river-grain stiffening in the skirt and its many flounces would prove uncomfortable when sitting in the teaching cavern listening; as would loose floating hair. However, that was for Dailla to find out for herself. Prisca had no idea that the dress she was secretly despising was designed to attract St'adar!

Dailla did not endear herself further to her companions by demanding to know what that ugly brat was doing eating with them, and what was wrong with his eyes, pointing at Storadel as she said this.

"He looked at your dress and his face stuck in horror," said Trayana, winking at Storadel.

"He is here because the rest of us invited him," said Prisca. "He has a fine intellect and bravery that someone like you will find hard to comprehend. Personal insults are so childish, Dailla, I hope you grow up a bit," with which she turned from Dailla to write a brief message to T'lana with regard to what she had found out about Bedella and Palla, which she was to send with Mendra's Corrie while Trill was still eating and growing. Prisca wrote in short drum notation, being trained in it for her Rank, and having picked up more in High Reaches, and knowing that T'lana was well aware of it.

oOoOo

Dailla undulated at St'adar. Her face briefly showed shock at the scars on his face, but she schooled her expression. She needed him to fall for her, and the sideways look at him from under her lashes was designed to demonstrate her admiration for him.

Dailla was not privy to certain facts which were rather likely to militate against St'adar feeling attracted towards her. Firstly, St'adar was smitten with Prisca, which rather spoiled him for any other woman; secondly, had he not already been enamoured of Prisca, he would have held aloof from any candidate on grounds of fairness; thirdly, he had seen the horrified look she had given his scars, and fourthly, and perhaps most of all, he had seen her push Storadel when the other girls had been looking away, moving faster than Dailla's languid pace which led her to be alongside the limping boy. Prisca had suggested that if he had no other duties he might like to sit in with them and learn, and Storadel had been eager and though Prisca had turned back to walk with him, St'adar had already observed Dailla's meanness.

"Sit down with the others, Candidate," said St'adar.

"Oh, but Weyrlingmaster, I was going to introduce myself," said Dailla.

"Unnecessary," said St'adar, "I was informed I would have Julyn, who is craftbred, and Dailla who is holdbred, and you don't look anything like practical enough to be craftbred."

Dailla simpered.

"Poor little Julyn," she said, patronisingly. "Doesn't even know how to make the best of what meagre looks she has."

"Has the sense to dress properly though," grunted St'adar. "Next time you come to one of my classes you can dress in proper clothing and tie back that mess of hair."

"It's not my fault it's a mess, that Prisca did it, and if it doesn't look nice, it's her fault!" said Dailla.

St'adar frowned.

"I don't believe you," he said, coldly. "If Prisca did it, she'd have plaited it for you out of the way."

"Weyrlingmaster, she isn't lying," said Prisca, "but she didn't want it plaited, so I left it."

"I tried to arrange it prettily!" declared Dailla.

"Shards, who cares if it's prettily arranged?" said St'adar, in outrage. "Hair like that is a flaming nuisance and traps Thread. If you want to ride a Dragon, you want to fight Thread, and with a haystack like that, Thread will get in and eat right through your head, though if you think that dressing like that and flopping your hair about is appropriate behaviour, I doubt anyone will notice the difference if it DOES eat through your head."

Dailla gave a horrified cry.

"Oh, how horrid you are!" she cried.

"It goes with being Weyrlingmaster," said St'adar, who had recognised her tactics immediately. "Keep your hair like that and when you walk Sweep, I guarantee you'll have a face that makes mine look pretty."

Dailla tried weeping.

St'adar turned to Mendra.

"Candidate, be so good as to help cure this hysterical wench with a jug of cold water over her head," he said.

"At your command, Weyrlingmaster!" said Mendra smartly, drawing a jug of water from the faucet provided for drinking water, and proceeding to pour it all over Dailla.

Dailla shrieked.

"You – you BULLY!" she wailed. "My dress will lose all its stiffness!"

"Bully?" said St'adar, coldly. "A bully is someone who deliberately pushes a young child much smaller than themselves. I saw that act of unprovoked meanness."

"Storadel, did she?" Prisca turned to him. He shrugged.

"I'm used to it," he said.

"Dailla…" began Prisca.

"Candidate, whatever you are about to threaten, I ask you not to," said St'adar. "You will only jeopardise your own chances. Candidate Dailla has been noted as a bully as well as an idiot; that should be sufficient."

Prisca bowed her head. The little Queen who awaited one of them, maybe her, would be disappointed if any of the girls who aspired to ride her sank to physical retribution beyond a returned slap in the heat of the moment.

Dragons, however, refused to name or speak of or to people they disliked. And Prisca planned to mention that after the class. She turned her attention instead to soothing little Trill who was hissing at Dailla in agitation that her Human had been upset.

The class went well; this was the theory of using flamethrowers and after drawing out and naming the parts from a diagram, St'adar said,

"And if you would all like to come and collect a flamethrower, we shall strip and reassemble them, all together, though if Prisca, Mendra and Gwesara would like to demonstrate that you know how first, you can help the others."

The three girls had no trouble.

"But – but my dress would be soiled and perhaps snagged and torn touching those horrid things!" wailed Dailla.

"This is why you should have dressed for a class in dragon care not as though you were going to a Gather in the hopes of getting laid," said St'adar. "Prisca, help her roll up her sleeves and tie them back and tie back that firelizard's nest on her head. Dailla, if you should happen to Impress – and Faranth help the poor little Queen if you do – then you would need to be able to use a flamethrower to preserve your life by searing Thread. If you are here to waste my time by trying merely to demonstrate your skills as an expensive loving wench then I suggest you move out of the candidates' cavern and into the lower caverns where you can see if you get any takers. Some of the adolescent boys aren't picky."

Prisca raised an eyebrow; that was downright unkind.

But then, she had not seen the girl shove Storadel, who was too stoic to complain; and any man must militate against anyone who bullied his son.

"That boy can do it for me, I'm sure I shan't be required to strip them down, only USE them," said Dailla. "He's got no right to be here, and he might as well be useful as drudges and defectives ought to be."

Prisca lost all interest in being fair to Dailla.

"Ninny, would you really put your life on the line for not having checked your own Flamethrower before using it?" asked Keilla.

"Dailla," said Prisca, "Are you going out of your way to irritate the Weyrlingmaster?"

Dailla stared.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You would not take my advice about an appropriate hairstyle. You dress inappropriately. You bully and insult his son under his nose. Really, if you wanted to make St'adar dislike you, you couldn't really have done a better job."

Dailla went white.

"I – I wouldn't think a Dragonrider would acknowledge a def- a boy with problems," she said, scornfully.

"I acknowledge a brave boy who has born with courage an affliction forced upon him by being born too soon, and whom I love dearly," said St'adar. "I will try not to let your attitude affect my treatment of you, but bully him or any of the younger ones again and I will discipline you. As I would if he were NOT my son," he added.

Dailla looked horrified.

She was not having a good day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The girls had a long midday break, and Prisca utilised that to help Krysara.

"I hear Bedella enjoyed your music," said Krysara, waspishly.

"And do you think I would turn down an opportunity to be in the good books of the Senior Weyrwoman when I may hope to work under her?" said Prisca, dryly. "I'm not an idiot; you have your own domain over here and can afford your own likes and dislikes. I'm too junior."

Krysara gave a half smile.

"Well, I suppose you have a point, there, candidate," she said.

Prisca shrugged.

"I've a theory that her apparent lack of empathy is something in her heritance – I've seen it elsewhere, an inability to understand how people interact with each other," she said. "It must be frightening to be Weyrwoman and in charge of people and have no idea what makes people form relationships outside of dragonlust, and why people do the things they do. It would make me quite waspish, I should think."

Krysara stared.

"I know nothing of this condition," she said. Prisca shrugged.

"A family in the Woodcrafter Hall have it," she said, "They are full of power and many of them Impress, but they are very literal, need to do things in the same order every day, hate surprises, and haven't a clue how to read emotions from faces or body language. Her face gives nothing away, she has no idea how to project her feelings on her face, even when enjoying music. I think she is to be pitied."

Krysara frowned.

"That… that does make sense of a lot of what Bedella has always been like," she said. "In that case, yes, perhaps she is to be pitied. Though she has a dragon to love her," she added with some resentment.

"And as the only love she knows and understands, perhaps a life saver for her," said Prisca. "I think her daughter is the same."

"You're right," said Krysara. "Shells and Shards, you're quite right. Heh, and R'mart won't help, shouting at her when she fails to understand something. And if she doesn't know how to read him, she isn't keeping him sweet either. No wonder we have so uncomfortable a Weyr! And nothing we can do to change that," she sighed.

Prisca said nothing. If all went according to plan, someone would suggest an exchange of dragons so that all the dragons at Telgar were not so closely related in future; which would move Palla elsewhere; and in time Bedella and R'mart would surely retire, and the new Queenrider brought in to take Palla's place would be a better Weyrwoman to lead the Weyr. Prisca half wondered whether T'lana would be sent, but reflected that the volatile little Weyrwoman probably had not the patience to let things make haste slowly, and moreover, the reaction to Mirrith might not be universally approving. She was not very noticeably Green tinged, but it was there, and some people might know of the story of her hatching. Ideal would be Z'ira, an Oldtimer technically, but she would not relocate without H'llon, who would be unable to leave the Printcraft. Perhaps they would send a Benden Queen, and the excuse being to give the greater size to future generations of Telgar dragons. There were Benden Queens at High Reaches and Fort, after all, so that was not unreasonable. It wasn't as if T'lana didn't have eyes identical to those of F'lar of Benden after all, so was likely to be able to manipulate Benden too. Prisca had never met F'lar, but she had seen Geriana's dragonpoker cards, and Geriana's accuracy was legendary. It was never spoken of, but Prisca had never been a girl who needed to gossip about things she noticed; knowing was sufficient.

In the meantime, the best thing she, Prisca, could do would be to stay on the right side of both Krysara and Bedella; and if it came to a choice, to keep the Headwoman sweetest. Judging by some of the paperwork Prisca was doing, it looked as though Bedella expected Krysara to do most of the administrative work that normally devolved on the senior Weyrwoman, though Prisca had a shrewd idea that Pilgra had a lot of volunteers to take on some of the tasks in High Reaches, as well as the cheerful aid of Elena, L'exa's daughter who acted as Pilgra's assistant.

She raised an eyebrow at Krysara as she checked over an agreement with a family of Carters who were contracted to carry tithe goods to the Weyr.

"Yes, that should be the work of the Weyrwoman," said Krysara. "R'mart told me to do it all when Bedella got hysterical over some arrangement or other, dealing with the head of the carter family. Dear me, I believe he was teasing her, with a straight face, the way these travelling rogues do, and she got upset over what I recall thinking at the time was nothing. But if she couldn't guess he was teasing…"

"That sounds as though it really is this same strangeness," said Prisca. "Oh, Krysara, is that why, do you think, R'mart is so set against what he describes as defectives, because he doesn't understand her condition?"

Krysara stared.

"And because he sees his Weyrwoman as defective he is determined to pretend that she is normal and that there are no defectives in his Weyr? Well, I never said so to someone who isn't really a part of the Weyr as such yet, but… well, I shouldn't dispute it."

"If I don't Impress, I should not mind remaining as your assistant," said Prisca.

"Really?" Krysara looked at her shrewdly.

"I like being around dragons," said Prisca, simply. "My brother will find another steward easily enough, but I do understand how a Weyr works, and I like it here. With a few minor exceptions," she added.

Krysara snorted.

"Yes, I heard you gave St'mon the sort of bawling out he hasn't had since he was a weyrling, and not before time that he should have one; and he dare not touch you while you have a chance at the Queen, my dear, but if you don't Impress, I would not bet on him leaving you alone! I fancy if you got off with being well raped, you'd be lucky, he's a cruel son of the Red Star – oh, I'm sorry!" she added as Trill took off with a horrified squawk.

"However did he Impress if he's cruel?" asked Prisca, soothing Trill as soon as the little queen returned chattering angrily to her wrist.

"Power in the family and as many boys standing as there were eggs," said Krysara. "and not always therefore the right colours. Some of the younger ones – like St'adar – might have failed to Impress that time and taken higher colours another time with more choice. But that's the way it was. And then St'mon was disappointed that his son Timon broke the shell of a runt. I suppose the poor child is insane now since it died," she added sadly.

Prisca stared.

"T'mon and Denth are respected throughout the High Reaches for their work on mountain rescue, as well as flying protective cover in the Queen's Wing!" she declared.

Krysara stared.

"Truly? St'mon said he believed the runt had died!" she said, her eyes flashing. "OH how impossible that man is! And they rate the boy the honorific contraction? "

"Well, Denth did not die, and T'mon is accounted a brave man," said Prisca.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Krysara, softly. "You'd better run along for your lessons, my dear."

Prisca ran.

oOoOo

The afternoon's lesson was to take place in the work clothes and involved basic training in the use of the flamethrowers they had studied before spending some time bagging firestone, then doing some basic physical exercises to loosen up after using what were, for some, unaccustomed muscles in learning to wear and move the flamethrowers. They were not to be using them with live flame yet.

"Those of you who know how may join Sweep tomorrow on the Weyr slopes when Thread falls," said St'adar. "Prisca, stay behind so I can certify you safe, I'll see you use a live one to see you adjust the flame nozzle."

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca.

"I know how too," said Keilla.

"My apologies, Keilla, then I will check you out too, to certify," said St'adar. Prisca tried hard not to be disappointed that she would not have a few minutes alone with him.

Dailla had not turned up for this lesson; she was too busy having hysterics over being expected to wear the work clothes, and only the glares of the others had stopped her from carrying through the slap she evidently had intended to give to Spella who had brought her clothes for her.

"Is Dailla ill?" asked St'adar.

"I do not believe so, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca.

He shot her a look.

"Just tell me straight what the silly wherry-headed creature is up to; never mind the no sneaking, I need to know, to know whether to have her sent home, punish her, or see if she can be motivated," he said.

"Somehow, I fear she will not be susceptible to being motivated," said Prisca, dryly. "She was unwilling to wear the work clothes."

"I see," said St'adar. "Perhaps you weyrbred girls – well, you might as well be, Prisca – will help the others to fit their flame throwers. I will return in a moment."

Gwesara giggled when he had gone,

"Do you suppose he's going to strip and re-dress her?" she asked.

"She might enjoy it too much," said Prisca.

"Not if it's done impersonally," said Mendra, "and nobody can do starchy and impersonal like St'adar!" she remembered her duties, "Well, if I work with Daraleen, Gwesara, work with Trayana and Prisca work with Julyn that should work, Keilla, you can put yours on for yourself and we'll keep half an eye out to check you haven't been given any bad habits by your folks."

Keilla opened her mouth to make an indignant retort, but shut it again. Prisca had been in a Weyr so it was no point saying that she was as likely to make mistakes too. She shrugged and settled down to showing the bossy weyrbred girl that she DID know what she was doing.

Prisca had smiled to herself at Mendra's bossiness; someone needed to take charge, and Mendra needed her confidence boosting. She smiled at Julyn and noted that the girl was already taking up the flamethrower rig quite competently. She had admitted to using a flamethrower at times, but Prisca was well aware that she was modest in her comment. She was plainly well used to using it.

"I fancy St'adar will be checking out three of us," she said. Julyn smiled.

"Well, I am not so skilled as anyone weyrbred," she said.

"Actually, you look handier than a lot of weyrbred I've seen," said Prisca, dryly. "No worries about you!"

They were all geared up when St'adar returned with a sulky and properly clad Dailla behind him, her hair in a rough plait.

"Mendra! Demonstrate to Candidate Dailla how to do this properly!" said St'adar, sharply.

Mendra smartly stripped her gear, and carefully and methodically demonstrated how to put it on.

Sulkily, Dailla complied, and with practise, those unused to the heavy, clumsy flamethrowers were managing to put them on without being a danger to themselves or each other, even Dailla.

St'adar dismissed class for klah before the firestone bagging for the morrow's Fall.

"But I don't see why I should do anything so menial and dirty!" whined Dailla.

"Because I say you will," said St'adar. She gave him a half frightened look and sulkily drank her klah and joined the others. She was not very competent at bagging, but Prisca felt most disinclined to help her. Even the friendly Trayana stayed at a distance!

St'mon did not interfere with the girls or Storadel this time!

They did not continue bagging as long as the boys; St'adar pointed out that working with the flamethrowers was also hard physical work, and that the exercises they were now to do would help their muscles cool down naturally so that they would not stiffen.

"They were devised by a healer long ago for such a purpose," said St'adar.

Prisca knew the exercises; they were not perhaps as extensive as those she used after acrobatics, but were along the lines of what she had learned at High Reaches.

"Dailla," she said, as that sulky young woman only performed half heartedly, "you will regret only half listening to half of St'adar's instructions when you wake up tomorrow. Trust me; I've slacked on cooling exercises and it hurts."

"Mind your own business," said Dailla.

"Your aches and pains; don't say I didn't warn you," said Prisca.

"I already ache," said Dailla, "I can't do these exercises, they hurt."

"You'll hurt more by the morning," said Prisca, shrugging.

oOoOo

After observing Prisca, Keilla and Julyn demonstrating their competence, St'adar contrived to send the other two to put away the flamethrowers and pushed Prisca against the cavern wall to give her a good kissing.

"I meant to stay aloof," he said, "but some relief from wanting you makes it easier to do so the rest of the time."

"It's difficult not to leap on you, you know," said Prisca.

He laughed.

"Yes… Prisca, you have shown such tender care to my son; I think I'm in love with you. It will NOT be easy, if you Impress the Queen, to know you will have to be with a Bronze Rider."

"I thought I'd cultivate someone I could like and respect in that event, who you liked and respected too," said Prisca, "because I rather think I'm in love with you, and I don't want to hurt you."

"The only Bronze Rider I REALLY like and respect is K'stol," said St'adar.

"Good, we'd come to the same conclusion," said Prisca. "Why are you wasting time talking?"

St'adar corrected that oversight.

"What did you do to Dailla?" Prisca could not resist asking.

He laughed.

"Gave her the choice between changing of her own accord or being stripped by me. As I told her I had no more interest in her body than if it was a lump of meat I think she's decided that I'm homosexual and changed in a hurry. I told her if she gave me any more crackdust I'd send her home," he added.

"Well, she might buckle down and learn to be happy," said Prisca, dubiously, "but somehow I doubt it. One more kiss?"

St'adar managed one more kiss.

Prisca left him, feeling happy. Storadel was waiting outside the teaching cavern.

"I thought I'd stand on guard to make sure nobody interrupted you and my father," he said, seriously. "In case you wanted to make love."

"Thank you," said Prisca, much moved. "You are very thoughtful. I think you'll make a great dragonrider."

"Do you think I might Impress?" asked Storadel.

"Yes," said Prisca, simply. "I think you heard a call."

"I was afraid I was imagining it," said the boy.

"I heard one too," said Prisca, "and I know fine well that this is going to be pretty tough going if we want to make Telgar the sort of place that will be comfortable for people with disabilities, or even for women who want to do more than decorate the furs of Riders if they aren't Queenriders. However, I think it can be done, and people like you and I are going to be the ones to do it."

Storadel nodded seriously and almost fell over as a result of losing his balance from that. Prisca put a hand under his elbow and let go as soon as he was stabilised.

"You're really nice," he said. "You don't help me too much, and you don't laugh at me when I have EVENTS like that. That's what I call them: EVENTS."

"A good word," said Prisca. "Describes perfectly something that an outsider can't begin to imagine."

Storadel left her at the candidates' cavern to return to the lower caverns; it was nice to be invited in by the big girls, but he did not wish to outstay his welcome, and nor did he wish to have anything to do with Dailla!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

What Prisca primarily noticed about walking Sweep at Telgar was that it was a moderately grim business and lacking in the cheerful camaraderie she was used to, both at High Reaches Weyr and in Talltrees Hold. There was a need for greater concentration too; the thin looking wings of dragons left plenty of holes for Thread to get through, walking Sweep was a necessity, not a mere precaution as it was in the Reaches.

Storadel was too slight a youth to use a flamethrower, even if it had not been unsafe to place in the hands of a lad prone to the odd twitch, and followed those who flamed with an agenothree sprayer, like most of the Weyr children. As he was in company with a capable looking older woman, who resembled St'adar enough to be his mother, Prisca made the assumption that the boy's foster mother and grandmother did not brook any nonsense about preventing Storadel from helping.

She joined Prisca after the sweep had been walked.

"My name's Adara," she said, bluntly. "Storadel tells me you are good to him and are his father's lover. I don't want to see the lad get hurt if you and St'adar break up."

"I can't see it happening," said Prisca, "We're still at the crazy lust stage, but I suspect when that quietens down we'll be rather well suited for long comfortable silences and feeling like a pleasant habit."

Adara laughed.

"Well, as Holderwenches go, you manage to be fairly direct! I have to say I would like to see St'adar settle down to be a comfortable habit and learn a bit of contentment; though seeing you, I'm a little surprised."

"I know," said Prisca, with a rueful smile, "I'm not his usual type."

"No, and as his usual type are picked to be uncomplicated bedfellows without any further interest in them, I have to say, I'm quite happy. Will you then stay if you don't Impress?"

"Yes; I have a job lined up helping Krysara, but don't tell St'mon. He might want to kill me a little bit if I stay and don't have a dragon," said Prisca.

"I appreciate you defending Storadel," said Adara. "I'll sort out St'mon. He doesn't really want to upset the lower cavern women, in case he finds they are too upset to remember to wash his clothes, or dry his bed linen properly, or make sure his food is cooked enough and not overcooked, or forget his klah until it's cold, and all those sorts of things."

"You're a formidable woman, Adara," said Prisca.

"You have to be, to survive the ill natured," said Adara, "and there have always been undercurrents that have been worse since we came forward."

"Because R'mart is concealing that Bedella has a problem," said Prisca, "and is terrified anyone should find out, and is more stubborn therefore about how Telgar is fine and it's other people who have a problem," and she quickly explained.

Adara whistled.

"I wouldn't say you were wrong," she said. "But be careful who you speak to – a candidate shouldn't be too free with such theories!"

"I planned to be careful to whom I proposed the theory," said Prisca, "but since it can be alleviated somewhat with help, having strong women to be allies in helping Bedella seemed a good idea. And since you plainly love Storadel, you'd like to see change."

Adara nodded.

"I would," she said. "What will you do if you Impress the Queen? St'adar's Streth will not be able to fly her."

Prisca shrugged.

"Isn't that the reason Weyrs take a more laid back attitude to sexual partners?" she said. "I'll cultivate a friendship with someone it won't sicken me to wake up next to, and who won't make a big deal of it to St'adar. But life will go on, even should I be unfortunate enough to wake up with someone I dislike. The act will have been made enjoyable by dragon participation. I was thinking it might be nice to call in a favour and arrange a bronze firelizard egg for him."

"That's a nice idea," said Adara, "though I thought you couldn't tell?"

"I know someone who can sense their colours," shrugged Prisca, keeping that piece of information casual.

She would write to T'lana and explain her dilemma.

After all, though the little Queen was questing for all of them, there HAD been that pull. And Prisca was no fool; she had taken charge of the female candidates fairly effortlessly, even Mendra, and that, really, was one of the things that generally marked out a potential Queenrider. T'lana would not have asked her to do the job if she had not thought her capable; and doubtless she was working with the mysterious sudden insights of L'exa as well. Things could still change, right up to Hatching; but with no unforeseen circumstances, a better candidate, or Prisca thoroughly disgracing herself, she was fairly certain that the preliminary to Impression had already taken place in the unformed mind of the baby Queen, who had no very well formed thoughts as yet, but who was looking for love. And T'lana's soft spot was for lovers; she would move the skies to facilitate people being as happy as she and R'gar were.

oOoOo

The rest of the day was free for the candidates; this was for the convenience of St'mon and St'adar to give them time to unwind after Threadfall. The schedule of lessons showed that no lessons would take place on Threadfall days, so approximately every fourth day was leisure, and total leisure at that since most Threadfall covered by the Riders would be far from the Weyr. Thread fell on average every 49 days in any particular place, but around every 70 hours in the jurisdiction of any one Weyr. And Telgar did not have such a high complement of Riders that it could afford to assign two to teach the candidates as their sole duties. The elderly and infirm seemed to be rapidly sent out of the Weyr to warmer climes; and Prisca made a discovery. R'mart did not merely dislike disability, he feared it!

The revelation came about when R'mart made a duty visit to the female candidates, and found Storadel there, discussing the finer points of care of firelizards with Mendra and Prisca. Prisca had written to T'lana with her dilemma, and pointing out that having a partisan friend would help Storadel too. R'mart stared at Storadel in outrage, his eyes fairly bulging, and a tic in the side of his face. His expression was one of outraged horror.

"What are YOU doing here?" he roared.

"He is my guest, Weyrleader," said Mendra, politely.

"And mine," said Prisca.

"And mine," said Gwesara hastily.

Daraleen, Trayana, Keilla and Julyn also added their word to this.

Dailla scowled.

"The little travesty isn't your guest then?" R'mart demanded of Dailla.

"Not hardly, ugly little brute," said Dailla.

"Well one of you girls isn't an idiot then," said R'mart.

Prisca suppressed a hiss of concern. Any senior Bronze Rider might influence an infant Queen in his choice of candidate. For Dailla to be chosen as Queenrider by R'mart's prejudice would be a death knell for Telgar.

"And since when was it idiocy to believe in the Charter, Weyrleader?" asked Prisca, sweetly. "I believe it says something about Dragonriders protecting and serving, doesn't it? Dailla can't help being such a little coward as to fear deformity, of course, but that's her loss if she can't find the courage to overcome such a contemptible little fear, isn't it?"

R'mart glared at her. This was the one who had brought that tedious torture Bedella called music to the Weyr. He could hope she would soon be on her way. Of course Mendra would Impress the Queen, nobody doubted that, but for Mendra to be going against him in standing up for that boy was not pleasing!

"I am not pleased to see that boy in here!" he roared.

"Well don't look at him then, Weyrleader," said Trayana.

Prisca winced; that was a trifle TOO blunt.

"Our young colleague means that while we are given quarters in which to stay, we have autonomy over who we invite to those quarters," said Daraleen, cleverly. "She is young and a trifle tactless."

"As is laid down in the Charter," Prisca added. "Dailla is somewhat outvoted by the rest of us in this matter, and the process of voting is a valid means to exert a ruling within a zone of autonomy."

"I could enforce my will by informing you that anyone who does not comply with my wishes in this matter will be leaving the Weyr!" snarled R'mart.

"Very well, sir, we will go and pack," said Mendra.

"Fool! I didn't mean the weyrbred!" snapped the Weyrleader.

"You made the ruling, Weyrleader," said Mendra. "We wouldn't want to stay anywhere where we cannot choose our friends."

"Item; it is a violation of the rights of the individual to limit their right to choose where they may have friendship and social intercourse," said Prisca. "We will leave, Weyrleader, if you truly wish this, but if you do, then we will report your violations of our rights to the Masterharper and to Benden. This whole matter had blown out of proportion simply because you do not like a youth we have seen fit to invite to our room because he is a pleasant boy who is not actually old enough to try ogling us and pawing at us like some of the older ones. You have backed yourself into a corner, and I think the best thing to do is for you to go out, calm down, and come back in and start again as though this whole conversation has never happened. Unless you wish to be left with only one candidate who is actually scared of dragons?"

It was a shrewd guess on Prisca's part that Dailla was nervous of dragons as the girl seemed to avoid going near them; Dailla was interested in the prestige, and Prisca had a shrewd idea that she expected to somehow dominate and train a baby Queen as she might a runner beast.

R'mart turned and strode out.

"Well spoken," said Mendra. "Come on, Storadel; I'll walk you down to the main cavern. I don't think he'd hurt you if I'm with you."

"Sad indictment on a Weyrleader if one of his candidates has to protect a child, supposedly under his protection, from harm," said Prisca, sadly.

"Oh he's mad with rage, no telling what he might do, even if he regrets it," said Mendra. She led Storadel off.

When she returned, R'mart was behind her, and she gave a rather wobbly smile to Prisca.

"Ladies," said R'mart, "I have come to welcome you to the Weyr and to tell you that I hope that the best of you is chosen to Ride our unhatched Queen. I am sure that you will learn to work together and to put the needs of the Weyr above yourselves at all times," he darted a malicious look at Prisca, "and will obey all the strictures reasonably laid upon you."

Prisca rose and curtsied.

"Weyrleader, we are all honoured to have the chance to Impress a dragon," she said. "There is no higher service than to be a dragonrider, protecting and serving the people of Pern, regardless of their situation. It is a noble thing to do, and we all hope that our aspirations to such nobility will be fulfilled."

R'mart glared at her again. He could not fault anything she said, or leap upon her speech as insubordinate. This one was trouble. And doubtless she had stirred up Mendra to question the status quo. R'mart determined that he would speak to M'kor regarding that Bronze Rider's daughter's duty.

R'mart was not to know that Mendra had utilised her free time earlier to speak to her father seriously about the duty of all Riders of Telgar to overcome the bad image Telgar had acquired, and had put to him strongly the arguments she had, herself, absorbed from Prisca. M'kor was conventional enough, but he was also, like his daughter, able to be stirred both by logic and compassion. And he had been furious that R'mart had vetoed out of hand the chance for Storadel to stand for Impression.

R'mart finished his visit with a few words that he fondly believed to be inspirational, and left. Mendra nodded to Prisca to follow out at a discreet distance for a private word.

"Apparently then he does NOT want us all to walk out," said Prisca, dryly to Mendra.

"He asked me if I would really forsake my father and family and walk out over some brat," said Mendra. "I told him it was over a principle, and that I most certainly would leave if it became an issue. He asked me where I thought I would go, so I said that High Reaches was used to taking those not wanted at Telgar. I thought he was going to have an apoplexy at that point, and Branth was bellowing. He went through several colours and then he got himself under control and said that he was prepared to forgive the candidates this once and save our faces by pretending nothing had happened."

"HOW I do not like that man," said Prisca.

"But what can we do?" asked Mendra, helplessly.

"I've written to my contacts to ask if Benden can suggest a Benden-bred Queen swapped for Talmanth," said Prisca, "and then Bedella and R'mart are bound to retire before long. We just have to endure."

"What if the Benden Bred Queen's Rider isn't nice either and wants to make an issue of a bigger Queen?" worried Mendra.

"I know my contact well enough to know that she'll lean on F'lar to provide someone decent," said Prisca, confidently.

Mendra giggled.

"LEAN on F'lar? Shards!" her eyes widened, "are you here from LESSA?"

"No, but – oh, it's not generally known that my contact is F'lar's get. She gets on well with the Benden Weyrleaders, and I'm trusting you a lot telling you that, Lessa doesn't like to remember that F'lar had lovers before she knew him."

Mendra laughed wryly.

"I can imagine," she said. "All right, I won't ask questions."

Prisca gave her a quick hug.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll tell you more, but when I can tell Gwesara and Daraleen and Julyn too."

Mendra nodded.

"Yes, they mean well but it's you and I who understand politics," she said.

"I never thought I was going to like you," said Prisca. Mendra laughed.

"I never thought I was going to like you, either," she said. "Gwesara used to tag along behind me, and we used to get on pretty well. But then I felt I had to Impress, to please my father, and – well, I started to throw my weight around to make myself feel more likely to be a Queenrider."

"I'd say that you were one of those in with a good shout at it, now you've forgotten to ride your father's dragon," said Prisca.

"Thank you," said Mendra. "To be honest though, I find myself deferring to you quite naturally. I – I like you a lot. I suppose you haven't ever laid with a girl have you?" she asked suddenly.

Prisca looked surprised.

"I haven't," she said, "and if that was a proposal, I might have said yes, just to see what it was like – I never turn down a new experience on the whole – but I've entered into a rather more serious relationship than I normally go for, and it would be impolite."

Mendra flushed and gave a half laugh.

"Well, I wasn't sure if you'd decline hurriedly and politely or be horrified," she said, "but if you have a mate, then I wouldn't dream of interfering. May I ask?"

"St'adar," said Prisca. "We met before he came on search and it was a mutual attraction. I hadn't felt like that before."

"One of the lucky ones, who have the sort of relationship that they say is almost like dragonlust all the time," said Mendra, enviously. "You don't hold it against me for asking? I feel so mixed up at the moment, between duty, and realising that all the things I've been holding on to about what is right and proper are just lies in my own head, that I've been fooling myself; down to flirting with boys who don't attract me at all."

"As I understand it, accepting that you're mixed up is the first step to unmixing," said Prisca. "I didn't have quite such a lot to unravel, but I had a few wrong ideas to get over. If you like girls not boys, maybe there's a blue dragon waiting for you, and a female Green Rider somewhere who will be special for you."

Mendra laughed shakily and tucked a friendly hand into Prisca's arm. It was a half experimental gesture to see if Prisca recoiled; but Prisca had no problems about the sexuality of others. Especially now her own love life was settled and happy.

"Well if I Impress a Blue, they'll throw me out and I'll be sent to the Reaches where I'll have a choice," she said.

"I wager they won't," said Prisca, "throw you out, I mean. To expel a boy for breaking an egg can be explained as doing so over his naughtiness. To expel someone for simply Impressing, that's really not explainable. Dragons Impress; and they are always right. Even R'mart would realise THAT would make him a laughing stock. More of a laughing stock, I should say," she added.

Mendra pulled a face.

"It's him and St'mon who are the worst," she said. "Most of the rest just go along with it."

"Had you heard, St'mon has been spreading lies that Denth died and T'mon is insane?" asked Prisca.

"NO! How wicked!" cried Mendra. "Really, that man is a travesty himself, a travesty of what a Rider should be!"

"I should think his poor dragon is screaming somewhere inside," said Prisca, sadly.

Mendra gave a half laugh.

"Yes, you ARE born to be a Queenrider; your first thought is for his dragon," she said.

"My second thought is that a man like that should never be permitted a thousand miles from little boys, a bully breeds bullies. I wonder how many fail to Impress as they should because they've been so depressed in spirit by that? How many are encouraged to equate bullying with strength? How many die in training because they are too terrified of him to think straight?"

"Well, two or three of each clutch always die in training of course," said Mendra defensively.

"Of course? That's horrendous!" cried Prisca. "I don't think that R'gar at High Reaches has ever lost a Weyrling in training – no, I did hear of one, but it was before Mirrith was shelled, I think it must be ten turns or more ago, and R'gar reckons any death of a weyrling should be unnecessary. It's why all candidates shovel firestone, to build muscles and to learn to work as a team by doing it AS a team, and tossing the sacks to each other to practice for when they go to take it to the fighting wings. By being trained thoroughly, deaths can be minimised even with blooding."

"How many deaths do they have in blooding?" asked Mendra.

"Never saw any myself," said Prisca. "I think they have the protective wing to thank for that, though, the highest level cover that specifically gives extra cover at changeover and when the firestone is brought."

"What is changeover?" asked Mendra.

"When the first two wings go home for the second two wings to take over with fresh dragons; only the Bronzes fly all of fall…. Actually there aren't enough dragons here to do that, are there?" said Prisca.

"I've never heard of it," said Mendra. "It sounds sensible though. Oh dear, we DO have a lot of changes to implement here."

"We can do it," said Prisca. They went back into the cavern in companionable silence.

Gwesara followed Prisca into her sleeping cavern.

"What did Mendra want for so long?" she asked.

Prisca regarded her thoughtfully.

"Jealousy isn't an attractive thing in a dragonrider, you know, Gwesara," she said, and the younger girl flushed. Prisca went on kindly, "Mendra was upset by some of the things R'mart said to her outside, and she also wanted some personal advice. You wouldn't like it if I spoke of any personal matter you raised, would you?"

Gwesara shook her head, her face burning.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I – she has always been older and more forceful than me, and I WAS jealous."

"You have no need," said Prisca.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Prisca pondered on Gwesara's jealousy and wondered if Gwesara too preferred women to men; with the inbreeding in Telgar Weyr, any such tendencies might be expected to be found in those related to each other. She concluded, however, that it was more because Gwesara had felt lonely and isolated, and her recent rivalry with Mendra had left a tentative resumption of friendship a little shaky, and probably the jealousy rose largely out of that rivalry and the many fears of what might be a very uncertain future if R'mart threw a serious hissy fit over any non standard Impressions. Especially if Mendra Impressed a Blue. Telgar was going to be set by the ears if that happened. Mind you, if R'mart decided to call Mendra a travesty and sent her away, she would at least be happy at High Reaches, where nobody turned a hair at any unusual event.

Prisca was not privy to the fact that even T'bor had blinked a few times when T'lana proposed the concept of girls riding Blue dragons if their proclivities led them in that direction; but T'bor had rapidly adapted. His people were his people, and all that anyone knew was that he would back them.

Prisca considered T'bor and Pilgra to be the paradigm of Weyrleaders, and hoped that Benden would let himself be talked into doing the right think by Telgar. However, more exciting than that in the short term, however much one sternly told oneself off over letting personal feelings rise above Weyr business, was that they were to view the Queen Egg tomorrow.

Dailla was busy washing her hair, preparatory for this event, and there were sounds of her crying with frustration over how difficult it was without a drudge.

Prisca sighed.

The girl was unpleasant; but then Vorinia had been no better, and it was no secret that she had earned the respect of the Weyr for her actions in saving a girl's life at the expense of her own health, and in learning how to change. Prisca laughed at herself that the old Prisca would never have put herself out, and marched into the bathing room where she proceeded to ruthlessly sort out Dailla's hair.

"Why are you helping me?" asked Dailla, half resentful and half grateful.

"Because I'm an adult who has grown past being childish about who I like and who I dislike," said Prisca.

Dailla sniffed and subsided into offended silence over the implied comment that she was still childish.

It was better than hurling insults, though Prisca. Well, hopefully they would only have to endure Dailla for another four weeks or so.

oOoOo

The golden egg shone in the dim cavern, beautiful and enticing. St'adar ushered the girls forward. Having looked at the others and only seeing the Queen egg at a distance, set apart from the others, it came as almost a shock to realise how big the Queen egg was, standing quite as tall as Prisca. From the gasps of some of the boys, ushered in by St'mon, they too were only now appreciating the size of the eggs, and some of the smallest ones would be dwarfed by even the smallest of them.

St'adar had chosen to lead the girls through the centre of the hatching ground, not round the edge; and he had not lingered. Prisca noted with satisfaction that Keilla was looking yearningly at one of the eggs as they passed. Trayana looked more bemused than otherwise. Well, she was very young, thought Prisca, in herself if not in years. Then as they came upon the Golden egg, Prisca was lost in contemplation of its beauty and the thought of how beautiful must be the little Queen within it. Trill was chattering excitedly. _I wonder if she knows_ thought Prisca.

"What was it we were supposed to do exactly, Weyrlingmaster?" asked Dailla, who looked bored.

St'adar fixed her with a steely look.

"You are expected to be reaching out with your thoughts to feel for the tiny unformed mind of the little Queen inside the egg, seeing whether she is likely to want to bond with you. The three viewings of the eggs are accounted the most exciting and moving experience in the run-up to the hatching; and by Faranth's first Egg, girl, you are the first candidate I have ever seen who can manage to look BORED by the proceedings!"

Dailla yawned.

"Well I don't see what's exciting or moving about it. It's an egg. It's going to hatch. Why bother being here until it does? Nobody believes all that mystical rubbish about reaching out with thoughts do they?"

Dailla was taken aback when all the other girls turned, and said with one voice,

"YES," to that query.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong in power?" said St'adar in disgust. "You'll be telling me next that you don't believe in the telepathic connection between Rider and dragon!"

"Well, actually, I do rather doubt it," said Dailla, "It's a bit absurd to consider beasts even being able to think; and telepathy is all very well for children's tales but really? I mean, you'll have to admit the myth when I've Impressed and need to train the little beast."

The others were staring at her open mouthed; and Talmanth came forward hissing.

"Hush, Talmanth, she's stupid as a stump," said Prisca, absently. "Maybe you should tell her so yourself."

Talmanth advanced her golden head and Dailla stumbled back in fear. Then she clapped her hands to her ears and turned to flee. Prisca neatly turned her as she was about to stumble against an egg and knock it over and firmly took her elbow to see her out onto the Bowl. She left the shocked, sobbing girl and returned to bow to Talmanth.

"If the silly creature apologises to you for her stupidity, for being taught foolish things, will you permit her back, Lovely Queen?" asked Prisca.

Talmanth considered.

"_Very well, as you ask nicely" _she said.

Prisca bowed again.

"What did she say?" demanded Keilla.

"She agreed," said Prisca, who had felt a sense of approval from the Golden dragon as well. It was as well, if she was to Impress the Queen's daughter.

The girls were still in the hatching cavern when R'mart came in with another obvious dragonrider – Prisca may not have been a logicator, but she had picked up enough to recognise the signs – who on second glance, once he was out of the glare of light from the cavern mouth was familiar.

It was F'lar, Benden himself.

"I see," F'lar said, looking around the eggs. "Yes, I am glad you spoke to me about this, R'mart, I see your problem."

"Problem? It was a foolish remark, I said nothing…" R'mart begain, and F'lar went on smoothly as if he had not spoken.

"Yes, even with a Queen egg as one of them, fifteen eggs is half the number I would expect, even from an Oldtimer Queen at this point in the pass. What did you say your complement of fighting dragons was?"

"Two hundred and forty," it was a mumble.

"That is a problem!" said F'lar, "and of course, it's what I'm here for, to help out with such problems, after all, any casualties and things will become harder for all your people, short tempers, inability to fight Thread efficiently; believe me, I KNOW, I was trying to cover all of Pern with two wings when Thread returned, totally inadequate! And you and all the others came forward to save us – it's only right and fair that I can now help you out with a dilemma. This isn't Solth, so there would be no political repercussions if she were able, after the hatching, to retire quietly to Southern, where there is less pressing need for heavy cover, and I'll see that you get a Benden Bred Queen and her Rider and Werymate, new blood, and that will soon work wonders. The Queen I have in mind has a good record of breeding fine offspring, and is fortunately available as the Weyr has a full complement of Queens, I'll have that sorted out in a brace of shakes. No, don't thank me," he held up a hand as R'mart opened his mouth to protest, "It's what friends and colleagues are for! And these are your candidates for the Queen? A likely looking bunch, excellent!"

R'mart muttered something about a wide choice.

F'lar looked them over, and something in his impish smile told Prisca that he knew who she was, and exactly what she was doing there. She smiled demurely and let her eyes twinkle.

F'lar nodded to her and the others, and turned away. The last Prisca heard him say was,

"The Rider with the boys, R'mart, is your Weyrlingmaster sick? I don't like to worry you, but I heard him speaking most inappropriately to a boy, telling him to give way to his betters over viewing an egg… he appears to have forgotten that the dragons do the choosing. Sounded like some stuck up Holderbred who hadn't lost his foolishness."

R'mart was brick red. St'mon had admonished one of the boys brought in on Search who had been drawn to an egg claimed by a weyrbred boy; but R'mart had a feeling that F'lar would not consider this an adequate reason to chew out the outsider.

And he had been outflanked and out-talked by the smooth, too clever Weyrleader of Benden! R'mart was seething!

oOoOo

Mendra turned to Prisca as they left the cavern, and said quietly,

"Your contact knows how to move fast!"

Prisca nodded.

"I confess I hadn't expected that much so soon; I presume F'lar took the opportunity of some conversational opening. He's supposed to be very clever."

"And R'mart is not, I'm afraid," said Mendra, pulling a face. "If he were, we might not be in these straits. I've read history – what Benden said about clutches of thirty being the norm is quite true. So few eggs are indicative of the end of the Pass and an old Queen."

"I can tell you that the subject was raised by a Bronze Rider who was seconded by another," said St'adar to the girls, why are you giggling, Prisca?"

"I think it's a tradition that Weyrlingmasters worth their salt have preternaturally sharp hearing," said Prisca.

"I can also lip-read," said St'adar, "a useful accomplishment. K'stol and M'kor voiced concerns when Benden dropped in. And you didn't hear it from me."

Mendra flushed.

"Good for my father!" she said, fiercely.

"I take back the things I said about him," said Gwesara. "Sorry, Mendra. He seems so arrogant…"

"And so do I? it's a way of hiding," said Mendra. "If K'stol will back him, I think he'll be ready to suggest change. I wonder if J'fery will go with Palla? Because if Benden has arranged, I should think it IS going to happen, shouldn't you?"

"I rather think so," said Prisca, "when worded that way as a favour. The only think that can stop it is if Palla refuses to go."

"She won't," said Gwesara. "She doesn't like Bedella much; they really rub each other up the wrong way."

"Not hardly surprising if they can't read each other," said Prisca dryly. "I hope Benden posts someone who appreciates how to help her. But then if he's acting on what I sent, he's almost bound to, isn't he? Hush, Dilly-Dally is coming," she added, as Dailla approached.

"What are you lot talking about?" Dailla demanded.

"We were discussing the Benden Weyrleader," said Daraleen. "Handsome fellow still, isn't he?"

Dailla looked confused.

"Do you mean the man with the Weyrleader was F'lar of Benden?" she asked.

"Yes," said Prisca, with commendable brevity.

"Oh! and I don't have my best gown on! Will they dine in the main cavern? I must change!" cried Dailla.

"I wouldn't bother; there goes Mnementh," said Prisca, pointing to the huge Bronze taking off.

Dailla stared.

"Oh, come now, don't pretend you can tell one dragon from another!" she said.

"Oh come, Dailla, don't tell me there's anyone stupid enough NOT to tell one dragon from another," said Mendra.

"Some people who aren't accustomed to them can't, dear one," said Prisca, deciding to borrow that appellation from T'lana. "I believe Runnerholders swear that Runners look different to each other too, and those of the Blood are also said to be able to tell Lord Raid apart from other ovines," somehow Dailla made her forget that she was too adult to score points.

There was laughter.

Dailla burned with anger, uncertain if whether she had been insulted or not.

"Besides," said Daraleen, "Mnementh is one of the two dragons anyone could tell apart; he's the biggest Bronze on Pern."

Dailla stalked off in a huff. She had no concept of dragons as individuals at all; and only dimly understood that Impression was a meeting of souls. Somewhere in her shallow and ill-informed mind she had the idea that the candidates who pleased the Weyrleaders most were somehow given the dragons, and was already talking herself into believing that Talmanth had NOT actually talked in her head because how stupid was it to suppose that beasts could talk!

Dailla's family gave respect to Riders for facing Thread, but she had never stopped to think about how the partnership with dragons worked.

"Dailla," called Prisca.

The girl turned.

"What?" she said, looking down her nose.

"Talmanth said that if you apologised to her, she would permit you back into the hatching cavern," she said.

Dailla stared.

"How DARE you insult me by suggesting I make a fool of myself talking to that… that creature as if it were a person? Do you think that by degrading me you will feel bigger? I have no intention of doing any such thing!"

"Then you may as well pack," said St'adar. "What a Queen dragon says, she means; and if you won't apolgise, there's no point you being here, is there?"

"When I Impress I'll show you!" said Dailla.

"And HOW do you plan to Impress if you are not allowed in the hatching cavern?" asked Stadar.

"It's my RIGHT! You can't stop me!" cried Dailla.

"I can't; but Talmanth doesn't actually care about your rights, you know," said St'adar, "and she's quite capable of chasing you right out of the Weyr if you go near her Golden daughter without apologising."

"It's a trick to get rid of me!" screeched Dailla.

"If you believe that after Talmanth spoke to you then you are a fool, as well as stupid," said Prisca. "Are you so afraid of telepathic contact that you don't want to acknowledge it? Can't you feel the surge as a Rider asks his dragon to come? What is this foolishness about?"

"What is going on?" R'mart, still smarting under F'lar's excess of bonhomie, came up. If that wretched girl was taunting the respectful one, he could get rid of her.

"Oh Weyrleader!" cried Dailla, "They are lying and pretending that dragons really speak to people as if they were people themselves, and SHE says that the Queen who laid the eggs says I may only go into the hatching cavern again if I apologise. I'm quite adult, Weyrleader, and I am well aware that the stories of being able to talk to dragons are Harper's tales, and that they are just well trained like the runner beasts of itinerant showmen. I am NOT about to make a fool of myself apologising to a beast for their amusement!"

She gave a sudden cry of pain as R'mart backhanded her hard enough to fall over.

"That candidate said you were a coward, but not that you were mentally deficient!" he said between gritted teeth, "you can pack and leave. And you can go out with the next traders as none of my dragons will want to escort you!"

"Well said, sir," said Prisca, glad that the man could think of HIS dragons, "though it was a harsh blow for one who cannot help her stupidity."

"She can help not listening and learning though; her wilful ignorance is what angers me," said R'mart.

Prisca strongly suspected that the blow held all the anger he dared not direct at F'lar; and there was some truth in what he said. She bowed to him and went to Dailla, who was sobbing in pain and fright on the ground. A quick examination showed that having been taken off balance and flung to the ground had probably saved Dailla's cheekbone from being broken.

"No bones broken," she said softly to Dailla. "It was a mean blow; even for such idiotic utterances as you make. Come on, I'll take you to the Weyrhealer."

The frightened girl allowed Prisca to lead her away; and R'mart nodded curtly to the others who were regarding him with somewhat unfriendly states.

oOoOo

The Weyrhealer gasped at the bruise on Ranking girl's face.

"Who?" she asked Prisca.

"The Weyrleader," said Prisca. "The girl picked a bad moment to display her ignorance."

"Oh, I thought it might have been… someone else," said the weyrhealer.

"St'mon? not this time," said Prisca, dryly. "Dailla, you don't like dragons much; you'll be more comfortable at home, I'll see if I can't organise a lift for you that obviates the need for traders. You really need to listen to people when a lot of people are saying the same thing; usually because it's actually true. I don't know what you thought Impression might be, if it isn't the permanent bonding of two minds, but calling a dragonman's life-friend a beast isn't very clever."

Dailla stared.

"You mean – to permanently have one of those creatures stuck in my head?" she whispered.

"It's mutual," said Prisca.

Dailla started being sick. Prisca looked helplessly at the weyrhealer, who shrugged.

"Apparently she has little idea of the realities of Impression and finds it unpleasant," said the healer.

"Apparently," agreed Prisca. "I'll ask someone to pick her up; I know someone who Impressed in another Weyr. And R'mart has vetoed any Telgar dragons taking her, but she's not in a fit state to go home by Runner beast."

"No," agreed the healer, "and at least no open wound or she couldn't go _Between_ anyway."

Prisca scrawled a hasty note to T'lana, with an explanation. For all her unkindness to Spella and Storadel, and unpleasantness to the other girls, Prisca felt vaguely sorry for Dailla, who had so little understanding of real life. More, somehow, than for Ideena, who had whined.

Well there would be no more; and they might as well share what they planned with Keilla and Trayana, who were unlikely to tell tales on purpose and who were unlikely to be anywhere where they could blurt out anything.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Is she all right?" asked Daraleen.

"Yes, or she will be," said Prisca. "I've arranged transport for her. Sit down, girls; without Ideena or Dailla to overhear those people more inclined to be, er, tactless, we need to share something."

"As I'm not part of a 'we' who has something to share, I presume you mean me," said Keilla, somewhat resentfully.

"Yes," said Prisca, "because your voice is trained for shouting into gales. And Trayana, who is inclined to blurt things out. And I apologise for excluding you, but there was a lot at stake – including the personal safety of anyone who took part. However, St'adar has connived at helping, so that is good."

"You're talking in riddles," said Keilla, crossly.

Prisca explained, leaving out nothing about how she had been asked to help by being involved somehow in the future in Telgar; and how having a wider choice by being ready to stand for a Green had been a part of that, and how it seemed mean to exclude the Weyrbred girls. Somehow she glossed over involving Daraleen and Julyn, so that Keilla and Trayana might think that it was only the Weyrbred girls who held secrets with Prisca. Julyn was discreet, and Daraleen was Harper-trained, and they kept themselves quiet! Prisca pointed out that if there were more of them to Impress Greens, they would be more of a force to reckon with.

"Well, I wouldn't mind Impressing a Green, I'm not afraid of hard work or danger," said Keilla. "Of course it means we all have to agree not to be jealous of who will get the Queen," she added.

"Well, we know THAT, don't we?" said Gwesara. "Prisca's taken charge all through, and done so without being bossy, and when we approached the Queen egg I never saw a dipper look on any face than on hers. She's already been chosen, if you ask me."

"I am not about to count a Queen before she hatches – though there was a pull," said Prisca, quietly. "I also felt a number of little Greens questing. Which is why I want to give them even more choice."

"This is the bit at which my eyes almost popped out," said Mendra, dryly, "when she manipulated Bedella into inviting in musicians Prisca thinks are good bets."

Prisca grinned unrepentantly.

"Well, worth a try," she said.

"R'mart's going to have an apoplexy and burst his heart open," said Keilla.

"No such luck," said Mendra. "I – I want to share something too. And I hope it won't stop you being friends with me."

"Well unless you want to chop bits off any of us to feed to your firelizard, I doubt it would," said Julyn, dryly. "You mean you want to share that you prefer girls and you're afraid we'll think it's catching the way the stupid think that homosexuality is catching from boys that way inclined?"

Prisca made a mental note that Julyn should be a logicator if only T'lana could manage to get that skill introduced; and cursed her earlier self that she had not joined in and learned more.

Mendra gasped.

"You know?" she said

"I guessed," said Julyn. "I'm not, I don't think, so inclined myself; but then, you aren't going to be forcing yourself on any of us, any more than if you were a boy who was just a friend would, are you?"

"No," said Mendra. "I value the friendships I have learned in these few short days to appreciate far too highly to jeopardise them. I just want to be true to myself to be true to a dragon; and if I Impress a Blue, it's going to come out anyway, so I thought I'd rather be honest with you girls first."

"That's all good by me," said Daraleen.

"Me too," said Keilla, "One of my brothers is gay, and as I have another to carry on the succession, our father reckons that if that's the way he was born, that's the way he was meant to be born."

"I think I like your father," said Prisca. "Can it be that we are all fortunate enough to have really good fathers?"

"Seems to be," said Gwesara. "Mendra, does your father know?"

"I have spoken to him about it," said Mendra, "and he said that if Weyr numbers were low I might have to consider the good of the Weyr to have a child, but as I appeared to be involved with bringing in new blood I might get away with it. Especially if I was also conniving to help Storadel, he added, which of course I am. So he has been very good."

"I really AM sorry I was nasty about him," said Gwesara.

"Well, I was nasty about yours," said Mendra. "We were fools – like traditional candidates, fighting for a Queen. When you think about it, how bad that must be for a Queen, surrounded by girls infighting to gain her attention."

"I think it might be the reason so many Oldtimer Weyrwomen are a bit… well, unduly haughty," said Prisca.

"I don't say you're wrong," said Gwesara, "I don't think my grandmother was particularly well behaved when competing with Bedella. It makes one feel quite squirmy inside to think that people you love have dropped their standards like that."

"But we don't have to," said Daraleen, "because we are all prepared to find dragons, and the colour doesn't matter. We are sending love and looking for love, and we shall find it if we have what it takes to be dragonriders; and if we do not, then that is an indication that we are not suitable."

"Or that a suitable dragon is not yet shelled," said Prisca. "Most Weyrs traditionally provide twice as many male candidates as there are eggs and permit unsuccessful candidates two more tries. Because sometimes their egg isn't shelled yet; and sometimes they haven't grown up enough to be ready. Like me," she added. "I needed to grow up to be ready. I have. I am. If the call I feel from the little Queen presages Impression, I feel able to step up to that. If she's checking me out and chooses someone better, and there is a Green for me, I am ready for that. And places that allow girls to stand, equally give them three chances. Anyone who doesn't Impress here and wants to try again – if not allowed to stay," she added, " – can go to High Reaches or, as I believe, Igen, and ask to stand there."

"Not Benden? They had the first," said Mendra.

"They had the first, but F'lar has to play politics, I think," said Prisca, "which is to say, if it happens, they accept, but they don't court it the way High Reaches does. And Igen, if what I heard is true, which it probably is. I know a lot of High Reaches Riders have friends in Igen."

"So if we get it going here, F'lar won't have to play politics so much?" asked Gwesara. "After all, G'dened is a young Oldtimer, and Southern, well, it's for retirement so they don't really have to be pandered to, and that only leaves Fort which is under a Modern Era Rider."

"I have heard N'ton has to pander to the prejudices of some of his older Riders who didn't go to Southern with T'ron," said Prisca, who had heard T'rin wax hot upon the subject because of the problems caused to his friend H'gey, who had Impressed in the tiers. She did not intend to repeat T'rin's well measured and scurrilous animadversions however! Prisca had never heard anyone, even fishermen and loggers, curse as fluently and imaginatively as the young Blue Rider Harper.

"So what are we to do about thinking about Greens?" demanded Trayana, going back to what interested her.

"When St'adar leads us through the eggs at viewings, let your mind quest for someone looking for it," said Prisca.

"I – I think I might have felt something," said Keilla.

"Yes, I noticed you feeling it," said Prisca, cheerfully. "Not everyone feels it straight away, nor is drawn to a particular egg, but some are fortunate."

"I didn't feel anything," said Trayana.

"Then perhaps you will next time; or you're not one of the lucky ones; or your dragon isn't shelled; or you aren't ready yet," said Prisca. "Not to worry!".

"I'll try not to," said Trayana, "I would hate to be the only one who didn't Impress, though."

There was not a lot Prisca could say to that.

oOoOo

Dailla was duly removed, quietly, by Y'lara, who could be relied upon to take no crackdust if anyone tried to stop her, and equally to take no crackdust from Dailla. Prisca only regretted that she was unlikely to find out whether Dailla HAD tried to cheek Y'lara and if so, what the rather volatile Green weyrwoman would do.

The girls settled into the routine of exercises, lessons, bagging firestone and playing and singing together in the evenings, sometimes for themselves, and sometimes for Bedella, who demanded that they entertain her. Julyn was not musical, but she could, like Keilla, hold a beat. Storadel joined them for most of their lessons, and Prisca suggested that he might as well have Dailla's room as he was hardly likely at his age to be trying to seduce them all. Storadel was delighted; these girls were grown up, but they gave him respect and treated him like a person.

"I love Adara," he said, "but I do like having friends nearer to me in age."

Prisca also decided to come clean to the others about her attachment to St'adar; and apart from a bit of ribbing about being teacher's pet, they took it in good part. Mendra organised them into covering for both Prisca and St'adar to make sure they had some time together, which the lovers appreciated.

That the girls tended to go around as a group also deterred some of the attempts of the older male candidates to separate and harass any of them. The boys were settling down into a routine too, their muscles becoming accustomed to the work, and hence having more leisure without aches and pains in which to feel their oats and notice the group of very attractive girls, who were also working together to make the most of all of their looks, with Trayana having taken Julyn in hand to emphasise her clear skin and pretty eyes with dark blue dresses picked out in silver and cream. The lower caverns had a variety of cloths and clothes needing makeover, and Trayana knew how to sew very well. All of which meant that the girls were watched wherever they went, and wherry-whistled by the boys!

oOoOo

The girls soon found it was time for their scheduled second viewing of the eggs, and Mendra dawdled through the other colours, and whispered to Prisca,

"I can't feel any pull! Surely I would? There must be more than one Blue to choose me?"

"Mendra, how certain were you of how you felt when we first viewed them?" asked Prisca.

"Not entirely – oh, you mean any potential dragon has settled for someone who knows how they feel rather than me?" said the weyrbred girl.

"I think it entirely possible," said Prisca. "Equally, as Gwesara is looking a little desolate, I fancy she might even be waiting for another Queen to be shelled, which should happen readily enough if F'lar is as good as his word. Which he will be."

She had turned to Gwesara to include her in the conversation.

Gwesara smiled, tremulously.

"I am happy enough to fly a Green, you know," she said.

"I know, dear one," said Prisca, "and I would selfishly like us all to Impress so as to have a group. We'll have to see who F'lar sends; he won't send someone who will fail to back us."

She was a little distracted because the Queen egg was radiating thoughts of need and that had to be answered with soothing love. Really, it was very wonderful, to be aware that another being needed her… she was lost in the contemplation of the golden patterns on the shell, until St'adar said kindly,

"Time's up, Prisca; come along now."

Prisca nodded, and with a last, loving glance at the egg, obediently followed.

St'adar briefly ran his hand down her face, after making sure St'mon was not looking; and she smiled at him.

As they went out into the bowl, it was to see four big dragons arriving, which a bugling salute from the watch dragon and a selection of others. One was Mnementh; another so big she could only be Ramoth; and Prisca gave a gasp half of dismay and half of pleasure.

The other two were Tamalenth and Esruth. F'lar was sending L'rilly and D're! Once, Prisca had thought it ridiculous that a one-legged man should ride a dragon, but she had learned that D're did more with his one leg than many a fit man did with two.

"What do we need to know about the new Riders then?" asked St'adar, deftly manoeuvring the girls to where they might talk.

"L'rilly, Tamalenth's rider, is a granddaughter of Lord Groghe, and she is – or was – second most senior Queenrider at High Reaches," said Prisca. "She's blunt but fair, and she gives some leeway to the spoilt to get real about life, I understand she was considered a bit spoilt herself at first but something happened. D're, Rider of Bronze Ezruth, is a trader; he came to the Weyr with a pack of disabled kids looking for shelter and succour for them. He impressed in the tiers, he only has one leg, the other was eaten by Thread when he was sheltering in a cave that was too small. I've learned to respect him. I don't think we should ever mention that he's a trader; I don't think it would go down very well."

"Probably not," said St'adar.

"I should think it ought to make him a shrewd man, though," said Mendra, thoughtfully.

"And an inveterate gambler," said Prisca. "It's said he can see the colours of eggs before they're hatched."

St'adar whistled.

"I'll not lay any marks against him, then," he said. "They're a good choice?"

"Yes," said Prisca, "and I don't know why I didn't think of them before. Other people have, though, and that's what counts. Can we manage to drift over and eavesdrop when F'lar and Lessa introduce them?"

"Oh very well!" said St'adar, "girls can't be blamed for being nosy. Tell me about it later; I can't get away with it."

The girls drifted over to where R'mart and Bedella were coming out to meet the visitors.

"R'mart! Bedella! Here I am, true to my word!" said F'lar, smiling broadly.

"I hope you don't think it's nepotism that L'rilly's weyrmate is a relative of mine," said Lessa, also smiling. "His mother was married to a cousin of my father's, the daughter of a Runnerholder, so he's actually related to me closer than Jaxom is, but the Weyr has first claim on him."

"Jays, and I'd rather face Thread than run a Hold any day," said D're.

"I thought you said he was a trader?" said Mendra.

"He was. I never knew he was of the line of Ruatha," admitted Prisca, "at High Reaches such things don't really matter. But it explains how come he and his sister Impressed."

"Rather," said Mendra. "They have children?" L'rilly had put down two bundles and were divesting them of heavy clothing in the hot summer sunshine. She had harnesses on each child to which she quickly strapped a lead.

"They're her foster children; the children of another of D're's sisters," said Prisca, who was unsure of the story in full. "They must be rising three; they'll be a handful."

"Let's go and borrow them a little bit," said Gwesara, "And use that as an excuse to stay close."

"Good thinking," approved Prisca, moving forward. "Weyrwoman, would you like them played with and occupied?" she asked, curtseying.

"What an excellent idea," said L'rilly, not giving the slightest sign of recognition. "Keeran and Lassari," she said "in case you'd forgotten their names," she added so quietly only Prisca could hear.

"I never knew, as it happens," said Prisca, equally quietly. "I'll report at your convenience."

L'rilly made much of finding out the names of all the girls and bade the twins to behave themselves.

"My fosterlings," she said brightly to Bedella, "My niece and nephew as you might say. D're and I are pleased to be able to help out in any way we can, my grandfather – Lord Groghe – always impressed on all of us a good sense of duty. Tamalenth is a young, Benden-bred Queen, and commonly clutches forty or more."

"FORTY?" yelped Bedella.

"Yes, she's quite prolific, most modern queens rarely manage past three dozen," said L'rilly.

"May I ask what was it you said your name was?" asked R'mart, rather coldly.

"L'rilly," said L'rilly.

"Nonsense, that's a male custom to contract!" said R'mart.

L'rilly looked down her nose.

"If you think I'm about to lose the honorific I've earned, Weyrleader, you are sadly mistaken. You will get used to it. I'm not about to be militant about the customs I'm used to by suggesting that the Weyrwoman should become B'ella, so please respect my name as I will respect hers and yours."

"It might have been nice to have been treated like other Riders and be B'ella," said Bedella.

R'mart rounded on her.

"Don't even consider it!" he snarled.

"Dear me!" said Lessa, to Bedella, "Going through a mid-life crisis, is he?"

"I don't know, he's always been like that," said Bedella, with devastating honesty.

R'mart was unsure whether to splutter more at Lessa's comment or Bedella's frankness.

"Did you want to be B'ella then, Weyrwoman?" asked L'rilly. "No other senior Weyrwoman has done it yet, so you'd be the first."

Bedella looked wooden; L'rilly knew now that this was a sign of contemplation.

"It would be nice to be the first in something," she said.

"Oh how splendid!" said Lessa, clapping her hands in what Prisca was fairly certain was spurious glee. "Lessa doesn't shorten readily, and nor does Pilgra, and Nadira chose not to, though I understand her junior Weyrwomen whose names contract have chosen to, and of course, their female Greenriders."

"Igen has joined High Reaches in that madness?" grated R'mart.

"Oh we at Benden do not consider it madness," said F'lar, in a dangerous tone, "indeed, we had the first female Greenrider in Mirrim, who chose not to contract, though I've heard she is considering changing her mind on that. Perhaps we don't have so many intrepid women in Benden as there are in the Reaches and at Igen," and he smiled fatuously.

"I shall be B'ella from now on," decided B'ella. "It's more harmonious than Bedella anyway."

Prisca was having to hold herself in to stop an enormous grin from erupting. They had planned to subvert Bedella; and L'rilly and Lessa had just smoothly taken that subversion so far beyond anything Prisca could have planned or even imagined that it took her breath away. And R'mart could scarcely shout at Bedella – B'ella, rather – with Benden here, and now that L'rilly and D're were also here, he was stymied even after Benden left.

L'rilly linked arms with B'ella.

"Now, I understand you are fond of music," she said, "and I'm used to a musical Weyr with any number of Impressed Harpers, so I look forward to continuing to enjoy that!"

Bedella almost brightened.

"Yes, I love music," she said, "and we shall be having some visiting Harpers to play for the Impression feast!"

L'rilly laughed and winked broadly.

"Now how much are you hoping that some of them will Impress, so you get to keep them?" she said, making sure to keep her laughing face in view of B'ella so that she knew that L'rilly was teasing.

B'ella actually laughed, almost shocking Prisca, who had not known she knew how.

"Oh, well, one may wish!" she said.

Prisca silently swore an oath of total allegiance to L'rilly at that point. She was QUITE as clever as T'lana.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

L'rilly came to see the girls in their living cavern.

"I need to get to know you all, so that I am already acquainted with whoever is fortunate enough to Impress, and be my colleague," said L'rilly.

"It's all right. L'rilly, we're all plotting together to hope for Greens if we are not marked for Gold," said Prisca. "After a couple of useless articles went home, we've ended up with a decent bunch who know about me, and are hoping you can help Telgar to fulfil its promise and duty as a Weyr."

"What she said," said Mendra. "And if I DO Impress a Blue, will you help me transfer to High Reaches please, if R'mart has a hissy fit at me?"

"I will, if it's what you really want; or I'll help you stay and dare to be different if you would like to try that," said L'rilly. "I am not afraid of R'mart."

"I try not to be," said Mendra. "And with Prisca's lead, I've defied him."

"You've come a long way, Prisca; T'lana is proud of you and so am I," said L'rilly. "I am so glad you can take the lead."

Prisca flushed.

"I grew up," she said, simply.

"Indeed you did," said L'rilly. "Well, High Reaches' loss is Telgar's gain; and frankly Telgar needs strong weyrwomen and Weyrwomen, whatever colour they fly. I wish you'd all tell me your names, and I'll try to remember them, and your personal ambitions and wishes."

The girls eagerly spoke to her; L'rilly was unlike any Gold Rider they had ever met, though that was generally limited to B'ella and Palla, as they had hardly met Lessa! However she was unlike any traditional idea of such as taught at Telgar, and Prisca smiled to herself that the girls and young women were rapidly coming as close to adoring L'rilly as she was herself learning to do.

"Tell me about St'mon," said L'rilly, bluntly, when she had assimilated who was who.

"He's cruel," said Mendra.

"He told lies that Denth had died," said Prisca, indignantly, "and that T'mon was insane because of it."

"Hmm, that MIGHT have been assumption and – well, yes, wishful thinking," said L'rilly, "I know, a dreadful thing to wish on your own son, but wishful to prove that he had been RIGHT. Those persons who have to be RIGHT all the time don't actually think of other people."

"He's a nasty piece of work, and Prisca reckoned his dragon is screaming inside and I don't say she's wrong," said Gwesara. L'rilly raised an eyebrow at Prisca.

"Can a dragon handle ignoble behaviour, even in the one they love above everything – perhaps even MORE in the one they love above everything – without being damaged? Like a dragonless man is damaged?" said Prisca.

"It's a thought," said L'rilly. "I can't help wondering if Salth overflew himself knowingly, just because it was a way out with honour to stop the poison of T'kul's thoughts."

The girls shuddered. The events that led to F'lar fighting a mad T'kul had reverberated around Pern!

"Can you do anything?" asked Prisca.

"I can do something, and hope that it will be ratified even if I get a private bawling out from R'mart," said L'rilly. "I plan to call him on his treatment of the boys, and tell him he's relieved of duty as Weyrlingmaster pending an investigation."

"He might try to hurt you!" said Gwesara.

"He can try," said L'rilly, grimly. "Now if the lad who was lurking here when I came in would like to come out into the open, and turns out to be Storadel, we shall be seeing how soon it takes me to fix a proper candidateship."

Storadel came forward.

"CAN you, Weyrwoman?"

"I don't know, Storadel," said L'rilly, "but what I can do is to sneak you onto the sands in a white tunic at the right time if not. It'll be FINE!" she added.

She withdrew to spend some time with B'ella; and to delicately insert a few original ideas into the ageing Weyrwoman's thoughts.

oOoOo

L'rilly had the opportunity to interfere with the candidates earlier than she might have expected; she was observing the training of the boys and girls both, and had the opportunity to see St'mon shake a small boy who was resisting being bullied by a larger lad and told him to do what his betters told him.

This was not something to pass up.

L'rilly strode forward.

"Brown Rider, I am amazed and confused," she said, "how can one candidate be better than another? That is entirely down to the choice of the dragons. I saw this big lout – who I sincerely hope NEVER Impresses unless he can mend his attitude – pushing this little one about. Dragonriders protect and serve, and do NOT bully. Except the likes of T'kul, who was rightly relieved of duty. This is not the first time I have seen you act inappropriately. You are relieved of duty henceforth as Weyrlingmaster; you aren't much good at teaching them anyway, I have listened to your lectures from outside the teaching cavern and they are far behind the standard they should have reached by now in their knowledge."

St'mon glared at her; but she was a Queenrider, and that was something that had to be taken into account.

"On whose authority do you relieve me – Gold Rider?" he asked.

"On my own," said L'rilly, "and on that of the senior Weyrwoman, to whom I have spoken regarding your behaviour."

St'mon goggled.

"I shall complain to R'mart," he said.

"Complain all you like," said L'rilly. "You cannot, of course, understand the close relationship a Bronze Rider has with the Senior Weyrwoman; or indeed the relation all Bronze Riders have with any Queenrider. It is based on their dragon's personal loyalties, but then, I don't think you really understand personal loyalties either, do you?" she added.

"I don't know what you mean, Weyrwoman," said St'mon between gritted teeth.

"You don't? Dear me," said L'rilly, "how sad for you if you really do NOT know what I mean, a sad loss for you. But I think you're just trying to conceal from me what I already know – your disgraceful behaviour towards your own sons, and your more recent unforgiveable behaviour towards your nephew. You are a sham as a Rider, St'mon, because you break your oath in everything you say, think and do. And I am chewing you out in front of your boys deliberately, though normally I would consider that unacceptable, because it's time they knew what a poor excuse for a human being you are, let alone a dragonrider, and that you are the last person on Pern who should be in the position of being a role model. You are dismissed; and I don't want to see you again. D're will take over your class."

St'mon gave her a look of pure hated, and strode off, seething.

oOoOo

"What did you mean by relieving St'mon of duty, Weyrwoman?" yelled R'mart.

"Mean? I meant to try to preserve the few candidates you appear to have from either being pushed into being bullied or becoming nasty little bullies like St'mon and T'kul," said L'rilly. "I was in the High Reaches just after T'kul was thrown out, and believe me, I am WELL aware of the problems such a bullying authority figure can cause. I hope you aren't trying to emulate him? Surely not?" she smiled brightly.

"What gives you any knowledge and right to say how a Weyrlingmaster runs his classes?" demanded R'mart.

"Maybe the fact that I've helped the Weyrlingmistress at High Reaches when she's been heavily pregnant or nursing, and the fact that my weyrmate has helped the Weyrlingmaster there, who is an exemplary Weyrlingmaster who does NOT consider it normal or acceptable to have attrition and losses due to deaths in training. He hasn't lost anyone for more than 10 turns," said L'rilly.

R'mart paled.

"How can that be?" he demanded. "There are always foolish boys who make mistakes!"

"If they are well disciplined without being scared half _Between_ they should not make mistakes – or at least, not fatal ones," said L'rilly, coldly. "You will see, as D're makes a difference to them. I hope he can catch them up; they are very far behind in their studies. I doubt one of them could assist mending a mainsail, and yet they have been here almost three weeks. It's preposterous!"

R'mart opened and shut his mouth several times.

He did not need L'rilly to remind him that F'lar of Benden had mentioned St'mon's inadequacies, and F'lar had essentially manoeuvred this blasted High Reaches Queenrider and her ridiculous looking weyrmate – whoever heard of a man growing hair on his face if he wasn't a freak – into coming here.

"We shall give it a trial period and see how it goes," he said curtly.

"So long as it is a fair trial period and at least two hatchings and the growth of those younglings to being blooded," said L'rilly.

"That could be decades!" said R'mart.

L'rilly looked surprised.

"Why, hardly!" she said. "Tamalenth rises every three turns, quite regularly, as any young Queen should. And she would have been due towards the end of the turn, but I fancy that, as any Queen will, she may rise early because of your paucity of dragons here. In the same way as a Queen rises more often when a Pass is due."

R'mart had forgotten how often nubile Queens should rise; and he bit off a comment about being as prolific as a Green as he recalled the received wisdom of his youth.

"Carry on not saying it, if you please, Weyrleader," said L'rilly, who might not have an 'inner ear' like her friend T'lana, but who was shrewd enough to follow the Telgar Weyrleader's thought processes.

"Well, I have said we shall give it a trial," snapped R'mart, wishing he could dismiss this self-possessed, well-born, experienced and insolent Queenrider as he might dismiss the Rider of a lower colour.

oOoOo

R'mart had to, in the usages of etiquette, offer D're the position of Wingleader; especially as D're already wore the knots of the same rank already. This meant demoting St'mon, who had more reason than ever to hate the incomers.

D're, being D're, went through the flight movements with his Wing; and discovered that they were entirely lost by the complexities he was drawing out.

"Don't try to tell me you do that at High Reaches, Wingleader, it's too complex," sneered St'mon.

"Sure, Brown Rider, and I shouldn't have t'be tellin' av you, since it should be obvious that if this is what I'm expectin' av you, that it's what I'm used to," said D're, "but if it's a liar yer callin' me, then ye'll maybe come out and say it direct, so I can knock yer teeth down yer t'roat for miscallin' a Bronze Rider's word."

"I never called you a liar," said St'mon.

"Sure, of course not, because ye're too much of a coward t'say it direct, are ye not?" said D're, equably. "Ye'll learn the pattern eventually, but since ye're all too hopeless t'manage what smokeless weyrlings at the Reaches can do, I've a simpler version here that ye can learn before we fly next. One ye have that, ye'll see how it makes defending against Thread easier, which with the stupidly small numbers ye have here really makes sense, if the lot av ye want t'avoid score."

"Bronze Rider, I for one am glad to learn any new patterns that give us that advantage," said St'adar. "It would be nice to fight Thread with a reduced chance of needing numbweed each time."

"Good. And as ye're Weyrlingmaster to the girrrls, I'm thinking ye might understand the explaining of patterns the better; and as yon gormless forkwit is both defeatist and out t'make trouble, I'll be havin' you for me wingsecond, not him," said D're.

"I'm only a Blue Rider, sir," said St'adar.

"Jays, man, I don't actually care, so long as you keep your wits between your ears, not down in your arse like him," said D're.

St'mon was spoiling for a fight, and D're had no intention of bothering to postpone it with diplomacy.

The protocols of Telgar might be strict, but St'mon really WAS spoiling for a fight, and this was too much. He took a swing at D're.

The Bronze Rider blocked it effortlessly, and grabbed St'mon's wrist to use the man's own wild momentum to put him down flat on his face.

St'mon could not believe it; with a roar of impotent rage he sprang to his feet and charged D're again. Somehow he ended up somersaulting over D're's head and crashed to the ground on his backside.

"Sure, St'mon, and isn't it just that I'm smarter, stronger, and faster than you, as well as more av a man than you could ever be, which is why ye'll be takin' av me orders and behavin' yerself when flyin' in me wing, or ye can ask t'transfer out, so ye may, and glad I'll be t'see the back of you," said D're.

"Please, Bronze Rider, if he goes, we'll only be left with Blue and Green Riders," ventured another Blue Rider.

"And ef ye can learn the patterns I show ye, we'll still be a stronger wing than the others," said D're. "Well, St'mon, will ye be takin' me orders, or run crying t'the Weyrleader like a little girrrl complaining that I beat on you as yer reason t'transfer? If ye want a more face savin' excuse ye can say ye do not like t'be worrrkin' under someone as has supplanted ye."

"I shall make a request for a transfer," growled St'mon, "and when you get this wing killed with your craziness, I'll be ready to form a new wing."

He stalked off.

"Right, me bhoys," said D're, "Let's be seein' how much the sensible ones av ye can learn t'be puttin' that fool in his place."

The other Riders were not perhaps willing, but D're's calm clear explanations, and sensible questions from St'adar, and T'renth, the other Blue Rider ready to speak up, they started to feel quite excited.

K'stol and M'kor came in just as D're was winding up the briefing and suggesting mounting up to fly through the evolutions they had just walked through.

"What are these patterns that St'mon reckons are too difficult to fly, Bronze Rider?" asked K'stol.

"Why, Bronze Riders, me name's D're, t'be sure, and colleagues should be on no ceremony, should they?" said D're, passing K'stol the bound book of flight patterns every High Reaches Wingleader was given now as a matter of course.

K'stol held it for M'kor to peruse too.

"Complex," remarked M'kor, "but scarcely impossible – providing everyone knows their place and keeps to it, and respect and obey their Wingleader, as any might expect. What is this 'Protective Wing' in the end section?"

"Oh, it is the wing that flies highest and covers Turnover," said D're, "Not a luxury you have here, with so few dragons, to fly two flights of ninety dragons each and swap in the other two flights half way through Fall, to prevent injury from tiredness. The Protective Wing also covers the weyrlings being blooded and bringing in firestone, to prevent losses to bad judgement while they are still learning that judgement. They're the bravest and the best in the Protective Wing."

"Hmmph, I'd say so," said M'kor. "A novel idea, but I can see the point of it. Losing Weyrlings is always a tragedy."

"Is it true that High Reaches don't lose weyrlings as a rule?" asked K'stol.

"It is, f'sure; because training should be hard without bein' harsh, and every lesson learned so well a lad can fly in his sleep if need be," said D're. "As one who Impressed in the tiers, I had a lot to catch up, but at least I was older than the rest of them – I was a few months out of age – I was not at a silly age. R'gar went through everything with me on his own time t'make sure I caught up."

The other Bronze Riders exchanged a look.

"Can't see St'mon ever doing that," grunted M'kor. "May we borrow this to look at?"

"Sure ye may!" said D're. "You may wish to copy the pattern I've drawn up on the board too, simplified while me bhoys here get used to the idea."

"As if parchment grew on trees, eh?" said K'stol. "It's easy to see you're used to H'llon and his paper!"

"Oh, I've plenty of paper, K'stol," said D're, who had met the man when he visited H'llon; D're had picked the gold firelizard egg for Prisca to send back with him too. "Here!" and he passed them leaves.

The two Bronze Riders hastily started taking notes, asking question.

"St'adar, T'renth, perhaps you will answer the questions to show you've understood perfectly," said D're.

"Good practice, that," approved K'stol, though M'kor looked startled.

The two Blue Riders proceeded to demonstrate that they had absorbed the lesson as they answered the queries of the other Wingleaders.

"I'd like to get my wing mounted up to observe you fly these evolutions," said M'kor, "if it's all the same to you."

"We'd be happy," said D're, "Though it won't be as smooth as if we were well practised, of course."

"Understood," said M'kor with a curt nod.

"If you will permit my wing to watch also, I would be grateful," said K'stol.

"Certainly," said D're. "Well, me bhoys, ye're on yer mettle t'show what we can do to these others, and I hope ye'll find it more exhileratin' than nervewracking!"

"Unlikely, sir, but we won't let you down," said T'renth.

"We need something like this to make our low numbers more effective," said St'adar. "No wonder our dragons report that the High Reaches dragons are passing on jocular remarks when they hand over to us, even after a long Fall!"

"Efficiency; it helps," said D're.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Half the Weyr turned out to watch D're lead his Wing in the new patterns.

"They've simplified it no end," said Prisca, critically.

"SIMPLIFIED? Oh shards and shells!" said Mendra. "If I Impress a Blue, I'll have to learn that, won't I?"

"Yes, but I'll help you," said Prisca. "It's not really hard, not once you figure out the patterns in it, learning the patterns was one of the easier things I found."

"But then you take to learning the patterns of acrobatics easily too," said Gwesara. "Oh how I hope this will make a difference!"

"It will," said Mendra, confidently. "And look, my father is flying through the moves too, copying – how proud I am of him!"

"And that's well worth being proud of," said Gwesara. "I wonder what R'mart is going to say?"

"Not a lot, I should think, as the other two blooded Bronze Riders here in the Bowl seem to be interested," said Prisca, dryly. "Oh, how ridiculous to have a Weyr with only six Bronze Riders to its name, I wager it's because the safety record is so poor and the brightest and best got pushed and made mistakes!"

"No takers; you'd be right," said Mendra.

oOoOo

R'mart was waiting for D're.

"What do you think you are doing, taking out your Wing when we fly Thread in the small hours? You'll exhaust them unnecessarily!" he raged.

"I think a lack of practise and precision is more dangerous than exhaustion, meself; unprepared men make mistakes," said D're, calmly, "so what I KNOW I'm doing, Weyrleader, is trying to save their sorry backsides by giving them more tools to deal with fighting Thread than they've ever had from yon sorry excuse for a wher-faced dimglow of a Weyrlingmaster that has been so inadequate, and doubtless took over from one as useless. MY wing will show ye a thing or two, Weyrleader; because we'll FIGHT Thread, not absorb it and take it _Between_ as seems to be the common tactic, brave, but not very efficient. Ye'll not be criticising, I'm thinking, until the proof is shown on the morrow."

"Are you defying me?" said R'mart.

"If your wish is to stop me obeying my oath as a Dragonrider to do my utmost to fight Thread, then yes, I am," said D're. "I am using the most up to date and proven techniques, toned down to be taught in time, and if ye've a mind to stop me, I'll be reporting that to Benden, so I will, for ye'll be showing yerself unfit as a Weyrleader if ye will not do yer best fer the preservation of the few Riders ye have."

"How can you hope to perform at all when you have permitted the strongest Rider of your Wing to ask for transfer?" demanded R'mart.

"Y'pardon, Weyrleader, but as I see it, if ye mean St'mon as the strongest Rider, that's a matter of opinion," said D're. "He was defeatist in the extreme over the new patterns I was showing, and defeatism is a weakness. And as a Wing is only as strong as its weakest member, I don't want a sulky faced little prissy holdergirl who won't even try in my Wing. I doubt K'stol or M'kor would accept him either; they don't want their people put at risk by a fool either. I can't think how he Impressed, unless his dragon's egg was dropped before it hatched and the poor creature's brains were addled."

R'mart was almost apoplectic.

"D're has some excellent ideas," said M'kor coming over. "K'stol and I plan to run this through with our Wings too – I doubt though that we'll have time to fly it as well, though, so we may not be able to implement it this Fall."

"If yer leading edge Riders can learn the weaving manoeuvre, that should help the rest," said D're, "And if you've a man who can learn quickly, put him on the leading edge even if he does not usually take it. There seems t'be a lack of Brown Riders as well as Bronze."

"Your Wing feels the lack more because St'mon refused to have any equals in his Wing when he was leading it," said K'stol, dryly.

"Well, Streth's a big strong Blue, as large as a smaller Brown, and St'adar is no idiot, we'll manage quite well," said D're. "So long as it's not gusty, which would be unusual this time of turn, it'll be fine, so it well. And aren't the majority of the dragons in H'llon's protective wing Blues at that, and they make up in attitude what they lack in size, and me bhoys will be just the same," he added, loudly enough for his Riders to hear.

"As your Flightleader, we need to co-ordinate tactics," said M'kor, "R'mart, you'll excuse us? If I'm to incorporate this as a general thing, I need to be certain I'm using the tactics properly, K'stol, you'll come too…" and he led D're away before R'mart could protest further.

oOoOo

The girls would have risen at dawn to see the dragons return from fighting Thread in any case, even if they were not intending to continue their exercises.

The Queens' Wing came in to land first, and included Kaloth, St'mon's dragon, which was where R'mart had temporarily assigned the Brown Rider.

L'rilly slid of Tamalenth in what was plainly fury; and as soon as St'mon had dismounted she let fly with a powerful straight to his jaw, which felled the Brown Rider.

"How DARE you, St'mon?" she yelled at him. "You were too busy sulking, you weren't paying attention, that would have got that Green Rider and his dragon badly injured if I hadn't loosened my straps enough to reach to flame that gout of Thread! You are a disgrace to your dragon! You are OUT of the Queen's wing, I'd rather have any smokeless weyrling than someone who gets so far out of position he nearly knocks another dragon into Thread because you're too busy glaring at me!"

"The Weyrleader will hear of this, St'mon," said B'ella, icily. "I saw the incident. It was unforgiveable, and another example of the bad habits you have been teaching those boys. Perhaps it is time you considered transferring to Southern if you cannot do the tasks allotted to you."

St'mon was tenderly rubbing his jaw; L'rilly had a powerful punch, as more than one person who had angered her in the past had found out. The High Reaches habit of having all candidates bag and throw firestone had contributed to that! L'rilly would not ask anyone to do what she could not do herself, and though she had been a candidate at Benden, she undertook her duties as Queenrider very seriously.

The rest of the dragons came in to land, and Prisca noted with some unholy glee that D're's flight managed to land in formation though the rest did not.

It was a little discipline that T'bor insisted on in all but the injured; because if concentrating on the details of formation flying right up to landing, even when tired, concentration was less likely to slip and cause accidents like collisions on landing. To give them their due, M'kor's and K'stol's Wings did their best to copy that; D're had been spreading the word.

R'gar's and T'bor's dictum, Safety First, was coming to Telgar.

D're had one Rider with light score. Their Wing, the smallest, sported the least casualties. Prisca and the girls ran with numbweed to help scored Riders and dragons, and Prisca actually found herself slathering numbweed onto the Weyrleader, who was looking at D're with a mixture of respect and dislike.

"I hate the High Reaches Riders, you know, girl," said R'mart, conversationally. "They think they know it all. I'd hate them less if they would just occasionally make idiots of themselves."

"Times change, Weyrleader," said Prisca, diplomatically.

"We fought Thread by the old methods well enough in the Old Time," said R'mart, resentfully.

"With a full Weyr, Weyrleader, a full complement, not depleted by the infertility caused by all that time _Between_," said Prisca, "and in this time, F'lar and T'bor – who was always one of his closest friends – had to devise tactics to deal with being low on numbers. When numbers are large, the tactics mean that a reserve can be held."

"You have all the answers, don't you?" said R'mart, looking at Prisca with almost equal dislike.

"I've been studying hard; I hope I should know some of the answers!" Prisca forced herself to laugh.

R'mart grunted and flung off to his quarters.

oOoOo

"WHAT DO YOU LAZY BOYS MEAN BY SLACKING?" D're's stentorian bellow echoed through the weyrling barracks. "WHY AREN'T YOU IN THE TEACHING CAVERN?"

"P-please, sir, it's the day of Fall," ventured one of the less loud weyrbred lads. "The Weyrlingmaster isn't expected to teach on a day Fall occurs."

"I see," said D're. "Well if that has been the custom, I cannot hold you boys at fault, t'be sure; but Jays! What sort of feeble critter am I supposed to be? ye'll be rounding up yer fellows for me, and we'll be in the teaching cavern within half an hour."

"Yessir!" said the boy. St'mon would have blamed the boys whether it was their fault or not for a misunderstanding.

St'adar nodded to the girls, who were lazing in the bowl.

"Looks like we have some new customs," he said. "I'd better run some lessons too!"

"If you're not too tired, St'adar," said Mendra, politely.

St'adar laughed.

"To be honest, I'm less tired than I've ever been after a long night-time Fall," he said. "Those new patterns ease the concentration no end, once having grasped them. Waves of Riders take turns at bearing the brunt, so everyone has a period of relative rest. It's amazing!"

"Perhaps you could help consolidate it in your own mind in teaching us, as all of us hope for other colours as there is only one Queen," said Mendra.

St'adar nodded.

"Aye, a good idea," he said. "And I'll ask if any others of the Flight want to run through it again, if you girls don't mind."

"Not at all, Weyrlingmaster," said Prisca, most properly. She had been glad not to have to administer numbweed to him, but missed the chance of brief intimacy it would have brought!

There were a number of other Riders who joined the girls in their teaching cavern; and the other two Bronze Riders were among their number.

"Don't mind us, St'adar," said M'kor, "We want to consolidate this too; D're rates your teaching ability, so we'll respect that. You did a good job answering our questions. I'd like to see what the girls make of this, too."

"Please, M'kor, why are girls learning the tactics of the fighting wings?" asked a Brown Rider.

"Well, K'ran, if any of these lasses happen to Impress Green dragons as is happening in other Weyrs, I doubt you'd be complaining if that gave Griffath a chance to fly a Green with a Rider you'd not mind being with," said M'kor.

"Oh! Oh, yes, right!" said K'ran, enlightened. "Are we putting girls to Greens then? I hadn't heard."

"Officially? No," said M'kor, "but unofficially, as it seems to be a modern trend, some of us think it a good idea for girls to stand for other colours. If any should Impress at this hatching, we are determined to take it as a sign that open minded girls who have the bravery should be in future given every encouragement. I've discussed it with my daughter, and if she were to Impress any dragon, I should not have any qualms about entrusting flying in a fighting wing to her, indeed I should be proud to hail her as my colleague, should the Queen not be for her."

"Well everyone expects Mendra to Impress the Queen," said a Blue Rider. "I have several marks on her!"

"It can never be certain," said Mendra, flushing, knowing that she did not want to be a Queenrider. "We have girls in our group any one of whom might be worthy of a Queen; this time we are extraordinarily lucky."

"Oh, Weyrbred usually tells," said the Blue Rider cheerfully. "And the daughter of a Bronze Rider; who else has a chance?"

"There are others whose chances are as good," said St'adar, sharply. "And indeed, new blood is often good for a Weyr, to prevent sickly, inbred lines."

"Like yours?" said the Blue Rider, rudely.

M'kor turned on him.

"Storadel is disabled because of MY fault," he said, in a low, furious voice, "Which St'adar is kind enough to forgive. I inadvertently caused the birth defects to a child born too early, and I say that Storadel is strong to have survived that, and to have done as well as he has. You will apologise, or leave now."

The Blue Rider gaped; but stumbled through an apology. This was evidently, thought Prisca, one of those things that festered because it was never discussed. Well, Blue Riders were said to be a bunch of gossips, perhaps the story would spread, and some of the truth about poor Storadel would leave other Riders seeing him in a better light that they would accept his Impression when it happened with better grace.

"Apology accepted," said St'adar. "My line is only sickly in my half brother, whom I fear to be less capable by far than my son. Now, if we might perhaps come to the purpose for you being here instead of cackling like wherries?"

The other Riders quietened down, and St'adar ran through the patterns. Prisca asked questions to move discussion on to the concept of more complex patterns yet; she might as well help prepare the minds of the Riders.

oOoOo

St'mon was incandescent with fury.

Before the incomers had arrived he had held Position in the Weyr, as Weyrlingmaster and, too, Wingleader, the latter not common for a Brown Rider, but with so few Bronze Riders, a position ceded to him for his seniority. And now that blasted bearded fellow had stolen both his positions, and the bitch of a Queenrider had made sure it had happened, and had humiliated him in front of all the weyrlings and in front of the whole bowl!

St'mon was not a man to accept responsibility for his actions, even when Kaloth ventured that there had been a near collision and perhaps the Queenrider had been within her rights to be angry. St'mon almost snapped back at his lifemate that it had been the Queenrider who had distracted him in the first place. If only he might take her down a peg or two! She needed to be taught that, whatever dragons might think of their Queens, the Riders were only women, and therefore should be subordinate and subservient. He had his plans for that girl Prisca, as soon as Mendra had Impressed the Queen, as a weyrbred daughter of a Bronze Rider was likely to do, and wished he could do the same to L'rilly. How ridiculous, he snarled, contracting her name as though she was owed respect like a real Rider, instead of being chosen for her ability to charm the Bronze Riders wherever she had Impressed! Presumably High Reaches, where they were all Inadequates anyway.

He ignored Kaloth's mild interjection that the new patterns from High Reaches seemed to have worked very well; it was a fluke, it was not natural, it was not the way it had always been done; and besides, he had right on his side, for was it not plain that R'mart disliked the incomers too? R'mart would back him on grounds of lost tradition if….

St'mon's face twisted into a savage grin.

Kaloth was a big, strong Brown; one reason St'mon had been chosen as Wingleader, had he but stopped to think about it, rather than because he was in any wise well respected.

Yes, he could do it!

oOoOo

As L'rilly had thought, Tamalenth was starting to shine a brighter gold; and L'rilly was being careful of her tongue as her beloved dragon's impending fertility had an effect on her temper. L'rilly knew how vicious her temper could be when it got out of hand, and D're had worked with her to help her curb it.

Therefore when R'mart asked abruptly if it were true that they might expect a mating flight soon, she resisted the urge to tell him Tamalenth's far from flattering thoughts on Branth, and smiled sweetly.

"Why, as Tamalenth is quite refulgent, and as I find myself a trifle out of sorts, Weyrleader, I believe that my surmise that she has every expectation of rising a trifle prematurely appears to be incipiently fulfilled," she said, knowing that if she could not manage to do justice to the wordiness of I'linne, she might at least try. "The prognosis for favourable conditions is excellent, and we may hope for a good flight such as is the paradigm of perfection in terms of extensive progeny," she added.

R'mart's eyes glazed over.

"A simple 'yes' would have done," he said, tersely.

L'rilly smiled, and managed to wink at B'ella in a way the Weyrleader could not see.

B'ella was far from as stupid as everyone had always thought, as L'rilly was discovering; the senior Weyrwoman's inability to read people and R'mart's bad temper had led her to be generally monosyllabic, especially as her failure to grasp those situations which needed the understanding of human behaviour had caused her to make some embarrassing gaffes in the past. She had quite blossomed under L'rilly's kindly understanding of the problems she faced, and gentle explanations. L'rilly had grown out of most of her impatience in the care for her beloved fosterlings, and had no trouble taking her time in explaining things to B'ella.

B'ella smiled at L'rilly.

"Well, my dear, I wish you a good flight," she said. "In dragonlust, even R'mart is palatable in bed."

L'rilly was used to the devastating honesty of H'llon, and one would have thought that R'mart would be used to his Weyrwoman too, by now, but it would have been nice, thought L'rilly wistfully, to have had the talents of Geriana available to make a quick sketch of R'mart's face. Such a colour looked quite unhealthy and unnatural, and really he resembled some of H'llon's smellier experiments with necessary-gas when they were about to explode.

"Are you all right, Weyrleader?" asked L'rilly, in mock anxiety.

R'mart growled something unintelligible and flung out.

"Dear me, if he rode a Green, one might think his dragon was proddy," said L'rilly. "Maybe he has piles."

B'ella laughed!

"Oh my dear! R'mart is such a bad tempered creature, I wonder that you dare! How splendid it is to have someone who can make him flee instead of him making me flee!" she said.

L'rilly embraced the older woman and fervently hoped that if Mendra Impressed a Blue or Brown that the nasty old man would have an apoplexy.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Prisca was also watching Tamalenth covertly; L'rilly had brought no drudge to help with her twins, and had left them overnight with the girls when she had flown Thread; the children had been quite happy being passed around, as it was something they were quite used to in High Reaches. Lassari was a happy confiding little girl, and if Keeran was inclined towards independence, his habit of obedience was enough to prevent him being too difficult a child for the girls to manage. Thus when Tamalenth flew swiftly and silently out of the junior Queen weyr to blood her kill, early in the morning just a few hours after dawn, the girls diverted swiftly from their exercises to collect the twins.

Esruth was already ready; though D're had been assigned a weyr of his own, he and Esruth maintained High Reaches habits of sharing their weyrmate's large and roomy weyr. Other Bronze Riders came tumbling out of their furs, gliding down on dragonback only half dressed, to congregate in L'rilly's weyr.

And St'mon.

R'mart rounded on him.

"Are you insane?" he snapped. "A Brown dragon against a Benden Queen? You'll never have a chance, you fool! Even were Kaloth as large as Canth, a Benden Brown, I doubt you'd do it!"

"Sure, and isn't Tamalenth almost as big as her mother, the lovely Ramoth," said D're. "Ye're in this because ye want t'make trouble, f'sure, St'mon; don't take yer dislike av the pair of us out on yer dragon."

"I'll take your woman from you and let her know what I think of her when she wakes from dragonlust!" hissed St'mon.

"Jays, man, think of Kaloth!" said D're.

"Kaloth can outfly any effete cripple-loving inadequates from High Reaches any day!" snarled St'mon.

"Well, I don't know where ye have yer ideas from, my fine bully, but as this cripple bested ye in a fight, I'm thinking ye maybe have crackdust between the ears," said D're. "What, did ye not know? I lost my lower leg to Thread before I Impressed. I have a wooden one, and I can still lick ye any day and if ye do not get our of my lovely's weyr, I'll be throwin' ye out, so I will."

"There… are precedents," said R'mart, reluctantly. All the Bronze Riders were finding thinking hard, as their dragons became caught up in the strong feelings of dragonlust.

"And I will stay! Kaloth is ready!" cried St'mon.

And then the argument became academic as Tamalenth was bugling defiance and taking to the skies. L'rilly, an experienced Queenrider, had not permitted her to gorge, and the lithe Golden Queen was in the air and away.

Prisca never had any doubt what the outcome was going to be, eventually; D're's Esruth had been sired by Benden-bred Orth, and Segrith may have been an Oldtimer Queen but her Bronze offspring were noted for their endurance. Esruth was as much larger than the other Bronze dragons as they were larger than the Browns. Prisca suddenly realised that one reason R'mart hated the incomers was because he feared D're taking his position as Weyrleader. The intent look on the Weyrleader's face was more than just his participation in Branth's desires, he wanted to have some control of L'rilly and force D're out in this mating flight. Prisca turned to the other girls.

"Mendra, Gwesara, stay with me. You others, take the twins to our cavern. Storadel, you stay with us as well."

"There's going to be a fight, like between F'lar and T'kul, isn't there?" said Storadel.

"I don't know, but we need to be ready to leap on anyone and stick our teeth in their wrists if anyone draws knife, because it may not be good fighting practice but I defy anyone who's being bitten by someone who means it to concentrate on anything much else," said Prisca.

"Practical, if not elegant," said Mendra. "Do you know anything about knife fighting?"

"Enough to know that you never get between knife fighters; but I've never done it," admitted Prisca.

"Nor me," said Mendra. "If I'd been a boy…"

"And nobody taught me because I'm more of a danger to myself and others inadvertently," said Storadel.

"Teeth it is, then," said Gwesara. "What are you expecting, Prisca?"

"I don't know that I'm EXPECTING anything," said Prisca "Because I don't pretend to know the mind of a crazy fool like St'mon; but if he kills Kaloth doing this, he'll be grief maddened and might try to kill L'rilly or D're. And R'mart really wants to have some control over L'rilly too… I wonder, when their dragons are totally engaged if we shouldn't just remove the belt knives of all the Bronze Riders as well as St'mon…"

"I like that idea," said Mendra. "I think they get pretty intensely involved, I've never seen this before, you know."

"What are you girls doing here?" B'ella's voice cut in as she joined the men in the junior Queen's weyr.

"Oh B'ella!" said Prisca, "We were so worried about St'mon letting Kaloth die and going mad, we were wondering if we should take away ALL the belt knives from all the Riders, to prevent any incidents…"

B'ella stared at St'mon, in there with the Bronze Riders.

"Do it," she said, "I take the authority. Storadel, can you manage?"

"Yes, Weyrwoman; I'm not as incapable as St'mon always says!" declared the boy.

B'ella nodded.

"L'rilly has been so kind," she said. "That man is a waste of space!"

Prisca decided not to ask if she meant St'mon or R'mart. She might have been given too honest an answer that the Weyrwoman would later regret. She led the girls forward to gently ease belt knives out of scabbards as oblivious Riders rode in the lust-laden thoughts of their mounts, many lengths up and many miles away.

It was obvious from the attitudes and expressions on the faces of the Riders that they were losing the nubile Queen very rapidly, frustration and irritation marked most of them, except D're who was grinning. St'mon was plainly furious! He was also showing signs of distress, as Kaloth's own physical distress made itself felt in his body, and he gave vent to a despairing cry of thwarted anger, pain and yearning, and crumpled into a heap.

Prisca turned to Storadel.

"Go to your father and ask him to ask Streth if Kaloth is alive," she said.

"No keening," said Storadel.

"No, there isn't. Of course not, thank you for reminding me," said Prisca. "Then perhaps St'adar will take someone to search for Kaloth?"

Storadel nodded, and limped off.

Prisca nodded to Mendra, as the stronger of the other two girls, and between them they picked up St'mon's unconscious body and moved it out of the way.

Mendra looked for a moment as though she were about to kick him; but managed to refrain.

"Good choice," approved Prisca.

"Childish thought," said Mendra.

R'mart meanwhile was snarling to himself about coming ON, but was quite plainly urging himself and Branth in an exercise of hope over expectation. He clutched at his chest, and he too collapsed!

Prisca jumped towards him.

"B'ella!" she cried, "Whatever you think of him, he IS Weyrleader – please ask Solth to help him!"

B'ella looked startled; then mulish; then nodded. Prisca rolled R'mart on his side in case he vomited, and listened with some concern to his stertorious breathing.

It might be handy in some respects if the old fool had managed to kill himself, but it would not be good for the Weyr to dampen the spirits of a mating flight with the death of the Weyrleader. And Branth did not deserve it any more than Kaloth did.

"Come on, Weyrleader, you need to live," she said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. She felt B'ella's eyes on her, and looked up to meet the gaze. There was a shared moment of that equivocal feeling towards R'mart dying. "It is NOT a good moment, is it?" said Prisca.

B'ella considered.

"I think it is probably an inconsiderate moment for him to choose to die, if he is going to," she said, "but then I have never observed that R'mart has ever been considerate."

"Maybe he'll manage a first," said Prisca. "Inauspicious if there are any deaths at a mating flight; casts a gloom over the weyr."

"It couldn't happen to a better person though," said B'ella, viciously. "Him and St'upid both."

It was a joke of sorts; well it was a start, and Prisca grinned at B'ella.

"I wish I'd thought of that name for him," she said.

"Did I say something witty?" asked B'ella, wistfully.

"Very," said Prisca, wondering how she was managing how to cope with the rather surreal situation of the Weyrwoman making jokes while the Weyrleader lay between life and death. Outside the sun beat down hard on the striving Bronzes, which could not be helping Branth.

B'ella looked blank for a moment.

"Branth is returning to the Weyr," she said. "He is distressed."

"Hardly surprising," said Prisca, dryly. "Perhaps Solth will reassure him that I think the Weyrleader will live? His breathing is easier and his colour is better."

"Is it? Well it looks better than the usual purple," said B'ella, and went blank faced to communicate with her Queen. It would be unthinkable for Solth to fly forth in the direction of the mating flight to aid Branth, in case Tamalenth mistook the appearance of a Queen as a rival, even though Solth would be sexually unmoved; Tamalenth would not be thinking clearly. Branth must find his own way home with the aid of Solth's calming thoughts, and hopefully heading towards his stricken Rider would get him back in the Weyr at least. Prisca almost missed D're's yell of triumph and the moment he swept L'rilly back into the sleeping cavern as she cared for R'mart. If he could only be sensible – well, as sensible as he ever managed, she amended the thought – by the time Branth returned, the Bronze dragon would be less likely to cause mayhem through distress and an inability to reach his Rider's thoughts.

R'mart groaned.

"Good," said Prisca, briskly, "Weyrleader, please concentrate on reassuring Branth that you are alive and well. He is distressed enough to be laying firelizard eggs out there."

R'mart snorted.

"WHAT a ridiculous phrase that is," he managed, faintly, and looked surprised that it came out weakly.

The other Bronze Riders were coming out of dragonlust as their disappointed mounts turned for home, the bemusement in their faces showing the difficulty of leaving the fusion of dragon and human mind in the shared intensity of emotion.

"What – what has happened to the Weyrleader?" K'stol managed.

"Mendra? What are you doing here?" asked M'kor.

"Stood by in case St'mon killed Kaloth and wanted a fight," Mendra answered her father, tersely.

"R'mart appears to have had a heart attack. Branth seems unharmed," said Prisca.

"Faranth's egg! Thank the skies for small mercies," said M'kor.

"He may not be much of a Weyrleader, but he's what we have right now," muttered K'stol. Fortunately R'mart did not appear to hear that comment.

"J'fery, you and K'stol carry the Weyrleader to his quarters, I'll have a healer sent, and will assume temporary command," said M'kor.

J'fery frowned.

"Why you? I am also a flight leader and I am Palla's weyrmate."

"No, your Willerth flies her Talmanth; not really the same," said M'kor. "And Palla is no longer second Weyrwoman as such; it's L'rilly. So D're should assume command, but he's otherwise occupied. I took command while you were still wandering around in a priapic haze. That gives me right over you."

Prisca was nodding, and B'ella looked at her swiftly.

"M'kor has the temporary leadership," B'ella said. "If R'mart does not recover, it is better for a leader to come from someone who is staying in the Weyr for certain, not someone who might leave to follow his weyrmate."

J'fery did not look pleased; but he bowed acquiescence to the Weyrwoman and helped K'stol lift R'mart in a chair of arms.

When they had gone, B'ella looked at Prisca.

"Why M'kor? He can be abrasive," she said.

"He thinks for himself and does not do what has always been received wisdom for the sake of it," said Prisca. "He is capable. He may not go out of his way to be likeable, but he is respected. From what I can see, J'fery is well liked but not perhaps good at taking decisions. You were clever to hint that you hope he might go with Palla, though I don't know her feelings on the matter!"

B'ella shrugged.

"She said he's good in bed which offsets a lot of other things," she said.

Prisca spared a sympathetic thought for poor Palla, who deserved more. Maybe on Southern she would meet a better mate.

On Southern, which had a paucity of Queens, she would be popular. D'ram would be kind to her, and perhaps, once he understood what caused her slight oddness, he would find some comfort with her, and show her that men need not have to make up for other defects by being good in bed.

""Weyrwoman, will you watch St'mon while we get a healer for him too?" asked Prisca.

B'ella viewed him with dislike.

"You can bump him down the steps and take him with you," she said, curtly. The girls inclined their heads politely and hefted St'mon with as much ceremony as if he was a bag of firestone, as Gwesara giggled.

"But less use," said Mendra.

Somehow they manhandled him to the lower caverns, and deposited him with the Healers.

"His dragon lives," said Prisca, "but we don't know what state he's in."

The healer on duty tutted, and organised St'mon into a bunk.

The girls went out, in time to meet St'adar and Stroradel. St'adar looked grave.

"St'adar? No dragon has keened…" said Prisca.

"Oh Kaloth lives – if you can call it living," said St'adar. "He appears to have retreated within himself, almost like an unhatched egg. Four Blue dragons managed to bring him _Between_ back to the Weyr and have placed him in a junior Queen's weyr – even with the Queen due to hatch, we have more of such than we need – for ease of care. He… is not unhappy. He has forgotten almost everything but the bond with his Rider."

"Shards!" Prisca's breath hissed, and the other two girls gasped too. "What will that do to St'mon?"

St'adar shrugged.

"Hard to say," he said. "I'm going to recommend that he be strapped into a bunk though – in case he comes out of it raging. I've seen dragonless men before, but never ones whose dragons are… insane."

"Poor Kaloth!" said Gwesara.

"Indeed," agreed Prisca, and Mendra nodded.

"At least Kaloth has no recollection of how miserable he must have been," said St'adar, softly, "And even if St'mon has to be kept on Fellis, he will not be likely to remember."

"It's… it's almost worse than him dying, isn't it, to have had to retreat inside himself," said Prisca.

"I doubt he'll last long," said St'adar, gravely. "Unless he takes enough interest to eat, he will quietly die of starvation. And then St'mon will be a raging dragonless man, and ready to cause trouble, like the one we do not name who helped the Lady Holdless."

"Then he'll have to be kept confined in the Weyr all his life, rather than the Weyr abrogating its responsibilities," said Prisca, crisply.

"Hmmph, I was going to say that I could not see it happening, but once our new pair have emerged from their sleeping quarters, I fancy they might make it happen," said St'adar.

"You'd better believe it," said Prisca.

Especially if R'mart were incapacitated for any time!


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

The girls went soberly about their duties, having quickly arranged a rota of caring for the twins. The boys would have a day off from their training as D're was unavoidably detained; and St'adar felt it inappropriate to work the girls under the circumstances, so they had free time around the duties each had slid into with help from Gwesara and Mendra. Trayana had gravitated to the Weyrweaver, as had Keilla. She being seabred was able to teach him how to weave nets and highly amused that he enthused over the idea that, made from delicate threads, the same would be sought after as decorative scarves or decoration over gowns. Indeed B'ella had been delighted to receive the gift of a net scarf from Keilla, who had presented it with the cheerful comment that as she could not sing well, she might as well use her other skills. Daraleen was helping the Weyrharper teach the weyr children.

Mendra's weyr duties were largely administrative, like Prisca's, and she took Julyn under her wing to help inspect the older passageways, which had to be looked over from time to time for cracks and rockfalls. Julyn had been able to sound the rock as well to detect faults not visible, and emboldened by Prisca's tales of T'lana, had demanded the drilling of a couple of holes to stop a crack. The girls had settled in well, which, as Prisca said to St'adar as they took their turn playing with babies after managing their own period of intimacy, was just as well, if any of the girls planned to stay on, if they failed to Impress this time.

"Those High Reaches pair certainly would encourage it," said St'adar. "I THINK I like D're; his speech is odd, I've never seen a man with a beard before, which ought not to count, but it's hard not to stare, and he's very…different to what I'm used to. But he's a fair man, and he listens."

"Oh D're is one of those people that they more or less had in mind when they invented Bronze Riders," said Prisca, neatly hooking Lassari away from straying too close to the edge of Streth's weyr. Neither infant had any fear of dragons, of course, and only Keeran protested at being handed up, not climbing.

"I think you're right at that," said St'adar, "and I'm also liking M'kor a lot more since we cleared the air between us. You have us all under your thumb, Prisca, and well managed even before Benden intervened."

Prisca laughed.

"Oh, L'rilly and I both dance happily to T'lana's piping – except that now we are Telgar women and we might take her advice, but not her orders any more," she said.

St'adar nodded seriously.

"That's important," he said. "I'm glad to hear it. I – do you think you should ask her advice over St'mon? they say High Reaches also take on dragonless men, and though he is not, they might know how to help when…" he could not finish the sentence. St'adar might loath his brother, but the idea of being dragonless was too horrible to contemplate.

Prisca silently got a sliver of message paper from her pouch and wrote a letter to T'lana.

"What are you writing, love?" St'adar looked over her shoulder, puzzled.

"It's drum notation; you can get more on a small scrap of paper with it, so it's used almost exclusively by Logicators, which I'm not, but I know enough to take any advantage I can get," said Prisca.

"What are Logicators? I thought only Harpers knew drum notation?" asked St'adar.

"Well, it's of a piece really – though those of the Blood or having pretensions to it like my family – learn some drum measures," said Prisca. "It all started with T'lana working out drum progressions when she was in the Healer Hall for some reason, and also using her powers of observation to make deductions. L'rilly's a logicator – she can start it here. That's the square knot she and D're wear, you know, it's recognised by Weyr, Craft and Hold."

"Except apparently here," grunted St'adar. "Well when they crawl out of their sheets, maybe they can get that going before R'mart is up and about to jump on it before it begins."

"I should reckon they'll be ready for klah in about half an hour," said Prisca, "so if Streth will be kind enough to build a twin-proof wall with his tail to stop them trying to fly, you and I just about have time for one round ourselves…"

"Do all the women of High Reaches expect the dragons of their mates to act as nursemaids?" asked St'adar, amused, as Streth grappled with the novelty of the idea and decided that he liked it.

"I think so," said Prisca. "Tails make such good confining play pens."

St'adar laughed; and the twins played, unconscious of the loving of their current carers, for having a more interesting carer in Streth.

oOoOo

Prisca walked into the junior Queen weyr with klah, and a pair of toddlers at her heels. D're sat up and Lassari ran to him, telling him about dear Streth.

L'rilly raised herself onto one elbow.

"Setting yourself up as a second T'lana, my dear, knowing to the second when klah is needed?" she asked.

Prisca grinned.

"Well, I don't have her insights, but I do know on average how long it takes, and besides I have an ulterior motive."

"So, usually, does T'lana," said D're, dryly. "Tell us while we bathe; these moppets may as well join us in the bath too, they appear to have accumulated all the muck in the Weyr, f'sure."

Prisca had learned to be less nice about bodies at High Reaches and was only marginally embarrassed by a naked D're with a giggling infant tucked under each arm.

L'rilly swung herself out of bed, and brought the klah along to the edge of the bath.

"All right, Prisca; what do you need?" she asked.

"What Telgar needs is Logicators," said Prisca. "I wasn't ready to put the effort in before, but I am now. I saw without observing, I remembered without assimilating, and I have recalled a lot. If I could do that without trying hard, I reckon if I put in some effort I might do very well. I know you thought me unobservant, but I've remembered so much that I saw without being aware I saw it…"

"So you've done most of the training of yourself in being able to bring up those memories," said L'rilly. "Good; we need people like you. Who will come?"

"The girls, some of the Lower Cavern people, Storadel K'stol, M'kor, all of D're's flight I should think and half of those of the other two, and any boys D're reckons he's won over," said Prisca. "And St'adar goes without saying. I'm sure it's obvious to you how things are between us."

"I am glad it seems a strong relationship for if you DO Impress a Queen, you'll need that strength," said L'rilly.

"I don't dislike any of the Bronze Riders except R'mart and I don't really have much of an opinion about J'fery," shrugged Prisca. "Three turns is a long time to sort out some compromise."

L'rilly nodded.

"You got over things a lot easier than I did," she said. "And I'll share that now; because in a way, though T'lana was already Logicating, it took flight when she was confined in the Healer Hall, and that was my fault…"

Without sparing herself, the lovely Gold Rider described her jealousy of T'lana, even when she was posing as the boy T'lan, and how she had deliberately flamed her, and made T'lana go into premature labour, the trip Mirrith took on her own initiative _Between_ to the Healer Hall finishing that process, after T'lana had saved L'rilly's life.

"I was so ashamed, I wasn't taking care of myself or Tamalenth," said L'rilly, "and when T'lana breezed in and reminded me of darling Tammy, I dashed out, forgetting Fall. She came after me… and got Thread in her arm. She begged me to burn it out. It – it was the hardest thing I had ever done. And she forgave me for my jealousy, and for causing her more hurt, and that was when she dubbed me L'rilly, and the whole tradition of contracting Queenriders too – apart from T'lana who is a law unto herself – began. And I began a new life with the new name," she added simply.

"OHH!" said Prisca, "so that was why you edged B'ella into it, so she could start again with a new name!"

"Yes, though I'm not sure I'd worked it out into cohesive thought at the time," said L'rilly. "So now you know why I'm so keen on second chances where possible."

Prisca looked sober.

"Do you think the shock of driving Kaloth insane will be enough to make St'mon start over?" she asked.

"Whit's that?" D're's brogue sharpened as he spoke. Prisca briefly outlined what had happened during the flight.

"Shells, shards and little crinkly bits!" said D're. "Eventful mating flight, sure and it was. And sorra a thing we can do I'm thinking…if Kaloth has withdrawn, we'll not be reachin' him, and if Kaloth dies, St'mon'll not be one as will be ready t'be reached."

"It was a thought," said Prisca.

L'rilly smiled.

"It was a good and compassionate thought, and does you credit," she said. "I'll ask Tamalenth to have a good peer inside the thoughts of both of them… and see what she can do. She's used to helping in Logicator business, and she's a clever girl."

There was a whoosh of a dragon snort from the larger weyr next to the human quarters as Tamalenth agreed with how clever she was. Most of a golden head intruded and the twins giggled and emerged wet and shining from the water to greet one of their favourite dragons.

L'rilly went unfocussed and Tamalenth's eyes whirled in concentration.

"Tamalenth says they are stripped of almost all memories… they could function to live but not to fight Thread. This upsets her, but she suggests that when they can function they should be taken somewhere that it doesn't matter, like Southern, or about fifty turns ago," said L'rilly.

"Can St'mon actually feed himself even when he has all his senses?" asked Prisca. "Sending him back to a familiar place is attractive, but I'm not sure he'd know what to do with food that isn't served on a plate."

"Good point," said L'rilly. "Well maybe teaching him that will be a way to get him functioning. I need to see the Headwoman – Krysara, isn't it?"

Prisca looked at her with respect.

"It is; she's K'stol's mother," she said.

L'rilly nodded.

"Thanks for that. All information gladly received," she said.

"Does he need to be sent away at all? Can't he just be cared for here?" asked Prisca.

"Think about that, for a moment," said L'rilly, "and reflect how much he is hated. That isn't going to stop just because he may not remember that person who is hated. And think how much that is going to hurt Kaloth, and prevent him from coming out of his internal shell."

Prisca nodded.

"I see; you are very wise, L'rilly," she said.

L'rilly laughed ruefully.

"I hope I have learned some wisdom, these days," she said. "I note you're not busy looking on me in horror for my earlier childishness, by the way."

"There must have been something good as well already, or Tamalenth would not have chosen you," said Prisca, "as Benden don't usually limit their choices. I was too lazy to be jealous or I might have felt the same about some other candidates. It's a good job it was someone like T'lana though, or you might never have found yourself inside."

"Indeed!" agreed L'rilly, fervently. "I have every admiration for people like you who can manage to grow up, indeed realise a need for it, without a good prod from either circumstances, which may sometimes be on the back of near tragedy, or from a good talking to. And it's a rare thing, Prisca, my girl; in fact, I think you're the only person I know who has grown themselves up without a prod."

"Oh I had lots of prods," said Prisca. "What really got me thinking was Pilgra saying how proud of me she was that I had decided to grow up and stand for a Green and accept the inevitable if I did not Impress, and it wasn't being grown up at all then, but wanting to be home where I thought I would be happier for knowing all the rules and how to manipulate them. That, and discovering when I was home that I was BORED was the prod."

"Hmm, well, I'm not sure it constitutes a prod as much as having D're administer a good spanking and a telling off," said L'rilly, "Which is the success story of Vorinia who is now a lovely girl. But you did good, our Prisca. I'll be happy working with you when your Queen is hatched, for if this one doesn't choose you, I'm sure another will. And you DID feel the pull…"

Prisca nodded. It had come up in conversation with L'rilly; and had been a matter of fact, not of any conceit.

She left the weyrmates and their fosterlings to themselves and went to drop word of Logicators elsewhere. Fortunately the non weyrbred girls had heard of the concept and were able to help her explain; Julyn was particularly eager. It laid the groundwork for when L'rilly and D're called a meeting of anyone who was interested.

Prisca surmised – correctly as it turned out – that L'rilly would handle B'ella, and explain it to her, and make it clear that she did not have to join but would be welcome to be associated. Pilgra at High Reaches was not a logicator, though she took a keen interest in their doings! Prisca concentrated on winning over Krysara to the idea, repeating such stories as she knew.

"Well, I have to say, this new young Weyrwoman has made Bedella – or B'ella if she's to be called that now – less stuck up," said Krysara, with a sniff. "Though if it's this brain imbalance…"

"L'rilly agrees with me," said Prisca, "she's very used to people with it, and she thinks she can help B'ella overcome the effects of R'mart's bullying."

"Well, I'll meet B'ella half way," said Krysara. "I see young Mendra is dressing more and more like a boy. Is it true that she likes girls that way?"

"Krysara, that's not my story to talk about," said Prisca, "but if you ask Mendra, I expect she will be glad of an older woman to discuss it with. She's talked to her father, but her mother is rather in denial."

Krysara sniffed.

"Well, Drana is inclined to have her silly moments; otherwise I doubt M'kor would have wandered as far and as often as he does. A clever woman can hold even a Bronze Rider."

"But they say it takes the cleverest woman to hold a Harper," laughed Prisca. "You'll be there for her?"

"I will," said Krysara.

Prisca reflected that it might be as well to tell Mendra that confiding in Krysara would help them to keep the Headwoman as an ally. Mendra already confided sufficiently in Prisca, explaining how often she had felt that she was born in the wrong body, and that it wasn't just that she liked other girls the way homosexual men liked other men, but that she was certain that she should have been a boy.

How much of this was M'kor projecting the wish that he had had a son on Mendra, and how much was Mendra's natural makeup, Prisca did not know; but she had shrugged and said laconically that there was nothing to stop Mendra dressing like the lads in the weyr, and living as a man, to see if it felt more natural. This was the reason behind Mendra's adoption of more mannish garb, and indeed a shorter hair cut. She made a handsome young man, where she had been a relatively ordinary looking girl, and certainly seemed more comfortable in herself. She was even considering swapping the final two letters of her name to become Mendar, but this was a big change that was not to be taken lightly. Prisca privately thought that when her friend contracted on Impression – she was bound to Impress some day – M'dar was more felicitous than M'dra anyway. And if that was the big change in Mendra's life, why, the contraction could take in the change at the same time.

The final viewing of the eggs was to take place the next day, but before that, L'rilly popped her head round the door of the girls' living cavern after a brief knock.

"Mendra, I've asked a couple of High Reaches girls to come and give you some of their time; they can't stay long, because they have both got young dragons, but I thought you might like to know how it feels to be a female Blue Rider like J'inne here. With her is N'minda, her weyrmate."

Prisca had not met the pair; and would have sworn, had she been asked, that they were a slightly effeminate young man and young woman. She thought Mendra more manly in her mien.

Mendra flushed in pleasure that L'rilly should consider arranging such, and went off with the young couple, asking questions and advice.

"Trust High Reaches to manage the first Impressed female Blue rider," laughed Prisca. "Thanks, L'rilly!"

L'rilly shrugged.

"Best I can do," she said, "High Reaches has a few such pairs but these are the first Impressed pair. Others have used the excuse to stand for Impression to escape marriage to the wrong sex, and who can blame them? I – I do however feel that Mendra is slightly different… more of a boy, if that makes sense."

Prisca nodded.

"Yes, I'd agree there," she said. "Has she spoken to you about considering a name change?"

"No; but I'm hoping this will help her to tell me more about herself so I can help her better," said L'rilly.

"You know, I do like B'ella better than Bedella, but I wish you were senior Queenrider," said Prisca, candidly.

L'rilly laughed.

"R'mart does not; B'ella would like to stand down, but she's afraid of what he would say. And it would NOT be repeatable, as poor Branth has been shown to be unequal to getting anywhere close to Tammy."

"Is he recovering?" asked Prisca.

"Well, he's loud, anyway," said L'rilly. "And ranting about feeling weak when he tries to get up! The Healers have told him he may not get up until the hatching."

"Oh well, peace and quiet until then," grinned Prisca. "Logicator meeting this evening?"

L'rilly shrugged.

"Why not?" she said. "I think I can manage impromptu better; I'm really nervous about addressing people."

"You, L'rilly? I thought you had no nerves!" laughed Prisca.

"Laugh it up; I feel almost sick with it," said L'rilly.

"Think of how much trouble it would have saved here if a logicator had picked up that St'mon was acting irrationally early on, so he could have been stopped. And maybe even saved from himself," said Prisca. L'rilly nodded, soberly.

"Good point," she said.

oOoOo

Mendra was much happier for having spoken with J'inne and N'minda; being assured of the support of the other girls was one thing, but to be assured that her feelings were not abnormal was very much a relief to her mind.

"I have decided," she said, "and I am going to live as Mendar. If you others want me out of here, I'll understand."

"Why should we?" said Gwesara. "You're not a different person as Mendar; you're just someone who knows who you are now."

"Nicely put," agreed Prisca.

oOoOo

L'rilly had a larger audience for her Logicator meeting than she was anticipating; gulped hard, and started by explaining what Logicators did.

"Why should we want to, though?" asked a Brown Rider.

"Well, some people want to, because they have a well-developed sense of justice, and some do it because they like puzzles. If you don't want to, then why are you here?" asked L'rilly. "I'm here to introduce a new craft that runs alongside other crafts, and to welcome anyone interested. If you are NOT interested, go away and stop wasting my time and breathing the already stuffy air in the cavern," she added.

The Brown Rider scowled, but stayed.

Well there would be those who scoffed.

L'rilly decided to give, as an example, the case of murdered Dragonrider B'red, because he discovered from overflying a hidden field how an altered form of fellis was being grown – fellis which had since been discovered to have medical properties subtly different to the normal kind, so that good had come out of bad.

She had to explain then about the failed fellis brewing that had been usurped by the unscrupulous Wenner, and made into an hallucinogenic drug for the entertainment of idiots. That this had led eventually to the murder of a Rider, insensed her audience enough for L'rilly to add that Wenner and his associates had killed a cotholder to use his land for fellis brewing, because criminals did not care who they killed. The fact that it had been a different group who had murdered B'red she did not bother to emphasise. Getting the Riders of Telgar to react compassionately to non weyrfolk in general might be an uphill struggle.

Some would not come back to other meetings; few would bother to take it seriously, but it was a start, and at least a lot of the Riders now knew what Logicators were, which as they had been ratified as a craft by the Conclave of Crafters and were recognised by Harpers particularly was something that was necessary!


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The eggs were hard when the candidates viewed them again, and many had striations. The Queen egg certainly did. St'adar just left the girls to make their way to the Queen egg at their own pace, moving about the other eggs. They were excited in a subdued sort of way; and some of the boys were not best pleased.

"Hey, what are you girls doing here? And the cripple?" demanded one.

"Viewing eggs, loudmouth, what's it look like?" said Mendar.

"Who are you? you aren't in the barracks with the rest of us, you shouldn't be here at all!" said the boy.

"Jassap, if ye'd only learned somethin' av the way a regular Weyr works, ye might have known that anyone the Queen says may view her eggs, may view her eggs," said D're. "And by your rather limited lights, I'd be sayin' that the child av a Bronze Rider and Flight Leader would be takin' precedence over the son av a Blue Rider like you, would ye not agree?"

Jassap goggled.

"But why isn't he in the boys' barracks?" he whined.

"Because she's too much of a man to have to associate with the likes of you," said D're. "As, indeed, are all the girls."

"Oy, D're, I almost resent that," said Prisca, "the implication that the ability to pee standing up is somehow inherently superior."

D're laughed.

"Sure, and wouldn't any av me sisthers say the same!" he said. "I put it in words this dimglow might understand, for sure, isn't man but a single syllable, and honourable has three, which would challenge him severely. But I'm hoping, so I am, that there's room t'improve, and he sorely needs to, f'sure, as there's a paucity of candidates."

Prisca grinned.

"I'll go plot with L'rilly and B'ella," she said.

"I don't see why she gets to act like she's already a junior Weyrwoman," complained Jassap.

"Bhoy, I don't see why you never actually turn what few brains ye have on before ye open yer mouth!" said D're, irritated. "HOW does one determine the ones who Impress Higher Colours? By noting the ones with the air of command. Like young Storadel over there, who has moved in while I'm wasting my time trying to reach you, to settle a dispute. And doing it very well too," he added, pleased, as Storadel demanded, with the new-found confidence he had gained, what the argument was about, and proceeded to demonstrate how futile it was. D're added, "YOU don't LEAD bhoy, you just bluster and use your dubious position, and yer superior size because yer almost out of age, and that was backed up by yon waste of space who thought he wis a Weyrlingmaster when all he managed was to lead boys to a level of ignorance that has killed too many young pairs, and will kill the rest of you bhoys if you cannot shape up!"

Prisca meanwhile moved over to L'rilly, who was chatting kindly to Palla.

"L'rilly, B'ella was hoping to invite the Harpers of Brightwater to play for the Hatching, should they be brought in a few days before it's anticipated to settle in and make sure they are here before the confusion of bringing in guests and so on?" she asked.

L'rilly considered.

"Yes, a good thought," she said. "Perhaps you'll furnish me with a list – you fostered there, did you not?"

"Yes, though I can't say I know all the Harpers," said Prisca. "There was a boy who would not come on Search as he wanted to continue studies to be a Journeyman, perhaps it would be a real treat for him to see a hatching, and then have incentive to complete his studies early enough to stand?"

"Yes; and of course I can also mention the Harperweyr to him as another alternative," said L'rilly. The boy might not Impress first time, after all, but considering the small and sorry bunch there were, L'rilly strongly approved Prisca's idea of bringing in more choice.

The Harper Hall of Brightwater might have other, less complimentary, thoughts on the matter if their Hall were suddenly denuded by reason of Impression.

oOoOo

Prisca had received a reply to her letter to T'lana, which had been, in short, a promise to put her mind to it; a second letter assured Prisca that T'lana had communicated with L'rilly, who had the dilemma of what to do with St'mon well in hand.

With Tamalenth's aid, Kaloth had emerged from catatonia, and was eating, which had enabled L'rilly to communicate with St'mon as well. He was apparently entirely amnesiac with regards to his entire life up to, and including, his loss of senses, barring only a memory of the joy of Impression. L'rilly was working on that to get him to learn to function for Kaloth's sake; St'mon was able to take orders, and, said L'rilly, appeared to be able to function at much the same level as Camo, in the Harper Hall. He was learning to cook for himself, and launder his clothes, and he and Kaloth would be taken back some fifty turns where the surroundings would be familiar, but there would be no necessity for Kaloth to face Thread, or feel any shame in being unable to do so, as he might if they were taken to Southern where Thread fell, even though it was devoured by the grubs there. St'mon was solitary by nature, and would be unlikely to feel the lack of companionship; indeed, he seemed to be taking some pleasure in being shown how to sow, weed, and grow simple greens, which would make up for an otherwise rather unbalanced diet. He would have dried foods a-plenty, and visits might be made from time to time, to check up on him, and it was hoped that Kaloth might be able to hunt, and would share his kill. It was more for Kaloth's convenience than St'mon's, so that the poor dragon would not feel the negative thoughts towards his rider if the pair were kept in the present time – and,also, because when Thread fell, Kaloth would cower and project his shame that he was not involved.

If St'mon would garden happily, he and Kaloth would have their love for each other to sustain themselves for whatever their natural lifespan was likely to be; which L'rilly said dryly would have been perhaps more than the thirty or so turns they would have before the beginning of the Pass and the arrival of the Oldtimers had St'mon been likely to live a full lifespan; but somehow she doubted that they would manage that. Especially as it transpired from something Krysara said that made Prisca wonder about the seat of his unreasonable behaviour - that he had received a head wound in the Old Time, and had gone _between_ with it, and then not long after had come forward 400 turns. It was enough to addle anyone; and was not likely to add to his lifespan.

As Krysara's records showed too that a skeleton had been found in what became St'mon's weyr, it seemed to suggest that this action would close a circle.

oOoOo

Hatching was drawing closer; but there was also the excitement of the visiting Harpers. Quite how L'rilly had managed to talk Holder Camtar and the Master Harper of the little Hall into letting them come several days early, Prisca had no idea, but do it she did! L'rilly even talked Talmanth into permitting the Harpers to have a look at her beautiful eggs so that they could write wonderful music about them.

This was pure casuistry, but fortunately the only two dragons who had any idea what a casuistry was were Tamalenth and Mirrith.

Journeyman Valtar was leading the party of visitors, bringing a selection of apprentices, which included Adine, Camys and Feytha, and also Ketalla, as it had seemed unfair not to let her come and see how her friend Prisca was doing. All the visiting girls ran over to greet Prisca, who hugged and kissed them all, and dragged them off to meet the other female candidates.

If the girls were just a gaggle, that suited Prisca just fine; and she had already asked Storadel to take under his wing the boy Torsan who had turned down Search.

With luck, Valtar would Impress too; he was 22 turns, only just out of age, and, Prisca argued with herself, a Harper was like a Trader, in being adaptable.

The Harpers played for the Weyr after the evening meal, and the female candidates were invited to join in too, with the firestone bagging song once again – the first time most of the Weyr had heard it played properly, rather than sung in snatches by girls bagging firestone – and a few other popular pieces.

Prisca noted how properly Valtar was behaving towards Adine, and how she positively drooped at his formal address, and promptly took the younger girl aside.

"Stop moping, Adine, or you'll lose his regard," she said, crisply.

"He hasn't any regard for me; he treats me like any other apprentice. In fact he's often more distant with me than even with the boys!" said Adine, bursting into tears.

"Dimglow!" said Prisca. "I've seen the way his eyes stray to look at you; he's treating you formally because he thinks he ought to. Now when he Impresses a Blue dragon and you Impress a Green, all that will sort itself out!"

Adine was shocked into stopping her sobs with a sudden hiccup.

"You said WHAT?" she demanded.

Prisca bit her lip.

"Well… all right, I suppose that wasn't the best way to put it," she said. "Let's just say that Weyrwomen B'ella and L'rilly would not be averse to starting a Harperweyr here like the one at High Reaches, and if likely people Impress, it's a good way of making it a matter accomplished to lay before R'mart who likes new ideas the way most people like boils."

Adine managed a giggle.

"You have the most graphic way of putting things, Prisca! You REALLY think he likes me?"

"Yes, a very great deal," said Prisca, firmly.

"And you expect us both to Impress?" demanded Adine.

"Well, I did ask Streth what he thought," said Prisca, who had done so to confirm her own surmises. "He thinks we should have a nice crop of Harpers. He's not sure about Ketalla, but he reckons she's lengths better than a lot of the boys we have. The choice is poor; so I wanted to see about giving the dragons more choice and so… yes, I was interfering," she added as Adine raise her eyebrows.

"And manipulating Queenriders?" asked Adine.

"Who were happy to be presented with the idea," said Prisca.

"Well! If I can have music, I shall be happy, and dragons ARE so beautiful," said Adine, "but I'm not going to count ANY dragons before they hatch, however much you've been plotting."

"Always the best way really, and I shouldn't have said anything," said Prisca.

"No, you shouldn't and I'll try to forget it and pretend I'm not wildly excited," said Adine.

oOoOo

Feytha watched the candidates at work and was astounded how far her former mistress had come.

"I have to say, I'm glad it was you, not I who was searched, er, Prisca," she said, "I wouldn't want all that extra work!"

Prisca laughed.

"Well. I've learned to enjoy it," she said. "Well, maybe not bagging firestone, it feels horrid and smells worse, but doing it with others is companionable. And I've found that I CAN hustle, and that I like being looked at in a mix of admiration and horror for my energy. WHAT a little fool I was!"

"You were easier to drudge for, though," said Feytha, candidly.

"I don't need a drudge now, though," said Prisca, "I can shift for myself. It's nicer than having to wait for someone to do things for me – though," she laughed, "I DO miss klah in bed in the mornings. But it's a small thing to give up, to have more energy."

Streth had thought Feytha was unlikely to Impress; Prisca was mildly disappointed, but not surprised. Feytha was a nice girl, and restful; but somehow Prisca could not see her turning out to fight Thread!

oOoOo

Journeyman Valtar was not a great crafter of tunes, but he was competent; and just occasionally he might be moved to surpass himself.

He did so in sitting up all night to craft a short sonata about the viewing of the eggs in a Hatching cavern; a solemn, awe-filled piece, with moments of gentle humour as pizzicato violins showed candidates tiptoeing up to eggs softly and scuttling away as a Golden head came forward to see what these intruders dared to do amongst her eggs. He fell into the girls' cavern – where the visiting Harper girls were staying, there being four vacant sleeping chambers – hollow eyed and excited, and explained his ideas as the girls fed him breakfast. They pored over his score, and Prisca promptly sent Trill with a politely worded note to the Harperweyr at High Reaches to request printed staves for the Harperweyr they were trying to steal a little bit for Telgar.

T'rin turned up in response to that message, with a big sheaf of stave paper.

"You caught the fix-it complex from T'lana, or something, Prisca?" he said. "That's hardly a good record for the laziest girl in the Reaches to manage you know!"

Prisca flushed.

"I got over that; hadn't you heard?" she said.

T'rin nodded.

"Yes, nothing like missing dragons to make you appreciate them," he said. "So you're stealing a Harperweyr?"

"Hush, they don't know it yet," said Prisca. "B'ella liked the idea and L'rilly knows how to plot."

T'rin laughed.

"Well, if L'rilly's in charge of organising this, I back it to happen," he said. "One of my favourite people, L'rilly. Even though we had our differences to begin with!" he added cheerfully. "We miss her and D're a lot, but I guess they're needed here more. Did you have a specific need for stave paper?"

Prisca extracted the score from Adine, who was laboriously following it, and passed it over. T'rin started whistling the main theme, and his little white firelizard Prism added counterpoint.

"That's good," said T'rin. "Valtar, is it? I see the signature, may I copy this?"

"I – yes, please do, if you think you can use it," said Valtar.

"I do," said T'rin, "And I'll have a copy for myself and get my apprentices doing copies for the Harper Hall; we run down most weeks on one pretext or another. Here, which of you lot is Harper trained and has a fair hand? I write as if a weesweet fell in ink and had a hissy fit on the page."

"Too lazy to learn a fair hand, eh, Blue Rider?" said Prisca. He laughed.

"All right, that WAS your point," he said. "Oh all right; I'll bring you in some copyists. I take it you want to perform this before hatching here?"

"That was rather the idea," said Prisca as Valtar opened and shut his mouth several times.

T'rin was back before long with a selection of other Harper Riders and other apprentices, firmly took over the girls' teaching cavern after a brief chat with St'adar - the two parted with mutual respect – and before long the score was reduced to the necessary parts for the instrumentalists to use. K'lana took time to go and hug Tamalenth before she could be persuaded to sit down and work; however, having done so, she produced more than any of the others and in a certainly passable hand.

"One day, music will be printed," said T'rin, "I mean, as easily as writing can be; rather than carving a woodblock for one sheet as is done now. I trust my good friend Duthi to get there now he's a Princrafter!"

Prisca did not doubt it!

The music was ready to rehearse, and when T'rin departed with his rather overwhelming gaggle of helpers, they might do so.

"So that's the Harperweyr," said Valtar.

"About half of it, actually," said Prisca. "I can think of several who have not come, partly, I suspect, because they have too many duties, and in the case of some because of shyness. They have a whole complex of weyrs which have passageways from them to the various teaching caverns and music rooms of the Harperweyr and a stair down to the bowl too for the convenience of the dedicated drudges and Harperweyr Headwoman. It's very well organised."

"I might perhaps hope to visit it, as Journeyman Blue Rider T'rin liked my piece," said Valtar, wistfully.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll think of inviting you, as soon as he's performed your piece and presented a copy to the Masterharper and can then get his head on straight regarding such amenities as courtesy and what other people might like," said Prisca. "He's a true Harper; music can put almost anything out of his head, saving only Thread."

"Just as well," said Camys, "you can hardly sing it to death."

"He might sing to keep his spirits up though," said Adine.

"Probably too parched with the stink of firestone," opined Ketalla, practically. "Are we going to practice this or not?"

Ketalla might not be very musical, but she was well enough trained now to be an unremarkable member of the orchestra to add weight to the music, and as such was eager to learn the piece since it came harder to her than to some!

The piece was performed for the Weyr, with Valtar apologising for any roughness as it had only just been written and practised in honour of Telgar's eggs, and in joy of being invited.

The music received an ovation from anyone who enjoyed music; and B'ella actually had tears in her eyes.

Prisca hid a fierce grin.

B'ella would be very glad if these Harpers got to stay!


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Prisca had been waiting for the humming that presaged hatching and she grabbed random arms amongst the girls when it started.

"Quick, a splash in the bathing room and into the white tunics Spella has left out for us!" she said.

Ketalla giggled.

"Have you forgotten that some of us you are trying to hustle are just visitors?" she said.

"Oh hush! Just put on the tunic and never mind complaining!" said Prisca.

"I wasn't complaining, just pointing out that – Prisca, are you pulling a fast one on Telgar?"

"Well, on R'mart, anyway," said Prisca.

"Not me," said Feytha. "I'll get near enough dragons to support you, but I am NOT going for Impression. Too much like hard work, and I have enough to do catching up with music."

Prisca hugged her.

"It isn't for everyone, dear Feytha!" she said, "but I just wanted you along, even if you didn't feel able to stand. I can appreciate that your music is more important to you!"

Feytha hugged her back.

"Thanks for understanding," she said.

"All very well, but we need to get a move on," said Mendar, helping to hurry the girls.

"Are you sure? But we'll lose out in our music if we Impress!" said Camys.

"No, that's what Prisca's up to, I've just realised!" said Gwesara, "she's arranged enough Harpers to be here to Impress to have a little Harper Hall right here!"

"Harperweyr," said Prisca, absently. "T'rin will doubtless turn up and explain. Which will be about as obscure as any Harper can manage if he's in a mood to make linguistic short cuts, but it'll be FINE."

"Oh Prisca, Valtar is out of age!" panicked Adine, as they left the bathing room.

"Fardles to that," said Prisca, "age is relative and dragons can't count that well. Nor do they care. It's his adaptability. For Faranth's sake! WHAT did he do right after you'd all viewed the eggs? he only went and wrote the best piece of music I bet he's ever written, it had 'hey I just Impressed an egg' in every note!"

"It did?" said Adine, brightening. "Oh but what if I DON'T Impress?"

"You love dragons, don't you? well then!" said Prisca, tweaking and adjusting white tunics as L'rilly arrived with a knock at the door.

St'adar was waiting with Streth to carry Prisca across to the hatching cavern; D're had installed Storadel and the harper boys quietly in an unused boys dormitory and he would come with D're himself, disguised amongst others.

St'adar gave Prisca a quick kiss.

"Good luck, my love," he said. "Streth may not be able to fly a Queen, but we love you, and will be there for you."

Prisca kissed him back.

"I've got a theory about something, actually, that might make us all happy," she said. "But we'll have to wait and see on that!"

St'adar laughed.

"You manipulative creature, I am happy to go along with your plans – you have a way about you that makes people happy!" he said.

"I think it's the T'lana effect," said Prisca. "She trains people that way!"

Then they were swooping into the hatching cavern, and white clad figures were getting off dragons; D're had not been able to persuade Valtar into a white tunic, though the boy Torsan and the other apprentices had agreed to stand, once D're had assured them that a journeyman would be found to complete their studies, as was common in High Reaches, and if they did not like it, they could transfer to High Reaches where there was a Master Harper too.

Valtar was grumbling about D're stealing all his students as D're pushed him into a front seat of the Stands, next to Feytha. None of the others had refused to stand; L'rilly had, after all, asked for volunteers who were not afraid of dragons!

Palla came to wish the girls luck, and frowned.

"Aren't there more of you than there used to be?" she asked.

"B'ella thought it would not harm to let the harpergirls stand too," said Prisca, smoothly. "Several of them have power, and it would not do to have a Queen Impress in the tiers, you know."

"Oh, er, quite," said Palla, and wandered off. She was elated, and did not much care about the arrangements that had been made; she and Talmanth were getting to go a long way away from Telgar Weyr as soon as it was over!

Poor Palla had not even picked up that the atmosphere at Telgar was improving with L'rilly and D're essentially in charge; and would be glad to be away from the place where the only happiness was Talmanth. And of course THAT would not change!

oOoOo

"There appear to be more candidates than before," R'mart leaned forward suspiciously.

"Yes; there were not enough," said B'ella, her hand seeking L'rilly's for strength. "I decided to increase the number; seventeen boys for fifteen eggs is hardly a good choice."

"Well I don't see why it's suddenly a problem when it's never been so before," said R'mart.

"It has always been a problem," said B'ella, stubbornly, "but now I have the word of F'lar of Benden to reinforce my own beliefs, and on which I have acted."

"We will speak of this after the hatching and whichever idiot boys you have brought in have been sent home," said R'mart..

"If they don't Impress they are entitled to stand three times, Weyrleader," said L'rilly, "as are the boys already standing from your initial Search. Indeed, one of the new ones was originally Searched and turned it down, but he has been reassured on that score and has been glad to take the place originally offered. This IS the wish of Benden, as you DO have problems here; which is why D're and I were sent as advisors."

R'mart ground his teeth.

"Well at least the extra females can be got rid of," he said, "as there isn't likely to be another Queen egg for another decade at least."

"R'mart," said L'rilly, "WHY were you ill? Because Branth couldn't fly Tamalenth. Who is now with egg. And WHY is she with egg? Because Telgar is short on numbers. I would be extremely surprised if she does NOT lay a Queen to try to help to get you up to numbers of a fighting Weyr. If you have forgotten already what we are here for, I suggest that a failing memory is not the sort of thing a Weyrleader needs."

R'mart went purple.

"You are insolent!" he snarled.

"No, Weyrleader; YOU are not behaving rationally," said L'rilly. "Oh here are F'lar and Lessa and their guests. B'ella, you had better greet them, R'mart still isn't well enough to rise."

oOoOo

Prisca saw T'lana arrive with the Benden Weyrleaders, and the diminutive red-haired Weyrwoman gave her a 'thumbs up' across the cavern. Prisca grinned.

"_**You have exceeded my expectations, dear one, and please don't be shocked, I should have warned you I could do this,"**_ T'lana's voice said in her mind. Prisca, after a start of surprise, and a quick, guilty, adjustment to a moment's irrational fear at such an ability, thought very hard back,

"_**There was so much that had to be done, someone had to do it! Thank you for organising to send L'rilly and D're, there couldn't have been better choices next to you and R'gar!"**_

"_**Thank you, dear one! But I AM Benden's daughter, and politics, you know… besides, there's so much going on at High Reaches and I love to be at the centre of things! Now you concentrate on your little Queen!"**_ and the communication was cut.

Indeed there was an imperative tapping from the Golden egg, and Prisca felt the waves of hope, and anxious questing.

"Tap a little harder, dear Farith!" she said, stepping forward.

"Well, ladies, that's it!" laughed Mendar, "she knows her Queen's name! drop back and we'll see if there are other colours for the rest of us!"

As she spoke, a shower of shards indicated that Farith's efforts had been successful, and a Golden head burst out. Prisca was used to the size of baby dragons, and was not shocked, but some of the other girls gasped. Prisca pulled off the rest of the shards to free Farith, and the little Queen laid her head on Prisca's shoulder.

"_I am so hungry,"_ she said, hopefully.

"Come along then, and I will feed you," said Prisca.

"What contraction, if any?" called Mendar.

"P'ris comes straight to my mind," said P'ris.

"Hurrah for P'ris!" called Mendar, and all the girls clapped.

Somewhere on the tiers, R'mart was complaining about stupid new customs, and that it should have been a Weyrbred girl to Impress and where the fardling shards was Mendra and who was that youth?

L'rilly was largely ignoring him.

Too much was riding on this hatching to worry about a silly old caprine.

Besides, if he worked himself up enough, F'lar might just relieve him of duty.

As the next egg to break was Bronze – which brought a sigh of relief from superstitious dragonmen – L'rilly was almost holding her breath. She knew exactly how many eggs of each colour there were; and there were two people present she thought worthy of the only Bronze.

The little creature chose; and St'del's new Harper friends cheered him.

R'mart was on his feet, bellowing.

"Who let the cripple in? how DARE he Impress! How DARE he Impress a Bronze, he isn't worthy!"

And then he was clutching his chest again and Branth was bellowing distress.

WHERE, thought L'rilly, was someone like H'llon when he was needed?

M'kor and K'stol would do instead, and they were quickly carrying the Weyrleader out.

"That was a disgraceful thing to say," said Lessa, coldly.

"R'mart's like that," said B'ella.

"I think his health is too poor to continue as Weyrleader," said F'lar, "if he survives this second heart attack, I think he needs to go to Southern to be nursed."

"Oh NO!" cried Palla, "MUST I have to see him? If he's going there, I don't want to!"

"You won't have to see him, my dear," said Lessa, crisply. "He is going to need quiet surroundings with very few visitors. I'll tell D'ram."

"Oh THANK you," said Palla with heartfelt gratitude.

"A tribute to Telgar's Weyrleader," murmured F'lar.

"Benden," said B'ella, "if R'mart is no longer Weyrleader, I should like to retire as Weyrwoman. I'm happy to stay and fight Thread, and do the duties of a Junior Weyrwoman, but what I really want to do is to help found the Harperweyr. And L'rilly and D're are more than capable of being Weyrleaders."

F'lar blinked. That was quite the longest and most coherent sentence he had ever heard from B'ella.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't think it has ever been done before, a Weyrwoman retiring and not leaving the Weyr."

"Fardles," said T'lana, "How did they manage the situation before we had Southern? Why shouldn't B'ella have a bit of fun as a Junior Weyrwoman now she doesn't have to pander to the old caprine?"

"That was a good point up to the last comment," said Lessa, dryly.

T'lana grinned unrepentantly.

"I am sure," said B'ella, "and can everyone please shut up so I can enjoy the rest of the hatching?"

The rest of the knot of senior weyrfolk meekly shut up.

oOoOo

L'rilly reflected that if R'mart had not had a heart attack over St'del, he would certainly have had one over the Impression in the tiers of V'tar, who Impressed one of the two Browns in the clutch. It was no surprise that T'san had the other.

Indeed, only two of the original candidates Impressed – the boy who had been resisting bullying, and a young, slightly effeminate, weyrbred lad who Impressed a Green.

The other seven Greens went to the girls – K'illa, D'leen, Tr'ana, J'lyn, A'ine, K'alla and C'mys. Mendar and Gwesara were left rather forlornly holding hands on the sands.

L'rilly ran down to them and put an arm around each disappointed shoulder.

"My dears, I have good reason to think that your dragons have not yet been shelled," she said. "But when Tamalenth lays, we shall see, hmm?"

"I – I did hope for a blue," stammered Mendar, "to be a colleague to my father."

"Oh, Mendar, I think you are a boy who is going to reach higher than that!" said L'rilly. "Yes, you ARE a boy, in all essentials bar the physical; and I think you should be concentrating on getting used to that."

"As a boy, I'm out of age," said Mendar.

"Oh hush!" said L'rilly. "So's V'tar. So was D're. It's not important. Leave it all to me, and just learn confidence in who you are. And Gwesara, that goes for you too – now you have more room to blossom and grow without the silly rivalry between you two, and without the oppression of some of the less pleasant members of the Weyr."

"Did R'mart get thrown out for shouting that about St'del?" said Gwesara, brightening.

"No, he has had another heart attack and is too ill to continue," said L'rilly. "Now go help your friends!"

They ran off more happily to do so.

oOoOo

P'ris's parents had come to congratulate her, though Priselly was noticeably nervous of Farith!

"Oh how splendid, Prisca, darling, Telgar appreciates your worth, even if High Reaches does not seem to!" she gushed.

"Mother, don't be so silly," said P'ris, practically. "It's not a question of appreciating worth – in fact, the High Reaches people asked me to come here to help with some problems, because I just wasn't mature enough to Impress when I was there. I have fond memories of High Reaches, and I hope we'll be able to work closely with them. Oh, and by the way, I am Impressed; I have the honorific contraction. I'm P'ris now."

"I congratulalate you, P'ris, and have no doubt that Weyrwoman T'lana was behind it all," said Casser, gravely.

P'ris laughed.

"Oh, you are quite right!" she said. "T'lana was pleased I'd grown up. I'd have been happy to have Impressed a Green here, to help out, but dear Farith is the most beautiful dragon on Pern, and now she's finished eating, she, and hence I, are most dreadfully sleepy. If you have any questions, please ask St'adar; he's my weyrmate, which is like being my husband," she added, patiently, for her mother's benefit.

P'ris loved her mother – preferably from a distance – but was well aware of her faults; and was mature enough to take them philosophically. She gently steered Farith towards the Junior Queen weyr which had been prepared for the new little Queen and her Rider; the other girls and their Green dragons would be occupying the junior Queen weyr next to her, for convenience, while more permanent female weyrling barracks were sorted out. There had been a limit to how much could be done in the time, and without R'mart finding out, after all! The junior Queen weyrs were generous in size, and quite as large as any small barracks for half a dozen to eight boys and their newly Impressed friends.

P'ris had done all that T'lana had asked of her, and more – admittedly with a lot of help from L'rilly and D're and her own friends.

But if she had not been prepared to make friends, and put herself out to lead them, then she would not have had their friendship to rely on.

There would be no post hatching music, P'ris thought suddenly, with amusement, but as B'ella got to keep most of the harpers who had come to provide it, this was not going to a cause for complaint!

It would not be nearly as hard to effect changes with R'mart gone, and also St'mon, but P'ris knew that there would still be challenges ahead. Not all the Riders would adapt as well as K'stol and M'kor, and J'fery might make a nuisance of himself if he had the chance, if, as seemed likely, Palla did not invite him to follow her to Southern. And why should she? His dragon might have flown hers, but it did not follow that she would like him as a person. Especially as poor Palla also had trouble with relationships and hardly knew how to find someone likeable enough to influence poor Talmanth. Hopefully she would have a fresh start in Southern, and if Talmanth ever laid another clutch, why the successful candidates to it might always transfer to more active duties elsewhere if they wanted.

All these thoughts crowded sleepily through the new Queenrider's head in the instant before Farith – and her Rider – fell deeply asleep.

**Finis for now. Shh. There are sleeping dragons…**


End file.
